The Princess and the Dragon
by Dinas Emrys
Summary: When a golden dragon arrives in the countryside, Princess Weiss Schnee finds herself chosen by her city as an unwilling sacrifice. The dragon, however, has other plans, none of which involve eating the young noble. Much snarking, sniping, and flirting follows. Featuring Freezerburn with Princess!Weiss and Dragon!Yang. Part 2 of the Remnant Fairytale Series.
1. Sacrifice

**Writer's Note: **An uncensored version of this story can be found at my profile on AO3.

RWBY is the property of Roosterteeth and the creation of Monty Oum. The cover art was commissioned from the incredibly talented Skiretehfox. If you haven't, you should really check out their tumblr.

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**The Princess and the Dragon, a Remnant Fairytale**

**Prologue**

_Aarne-Thompson folktale type 300: the Dragon-Slayer (sort-of)_

The dragon drifted lazily through the summer sky, eyes shut as the sun beat down on outstretched wings and the tough scales of her back. Everything was bright and warm, only the odd bird call breaking the peaceful quiet. The creature heaved a great sigh, smoke spiraling up from her mouth, before rolling over and exposing the darker lines of its stomach. There was nothing quite like sunbathing above the clouds, feeling the pure heat of the sun on one's hide, the light shining through the membranes of her wings and dying the clouds beneath a brilliant gold.

The majestic serpent drifted in the air for a long while. Scales couldn't _technically_ tan, but a good dose of sunlight always brought out their luster. Plus, sunshine was critical to preventing all kinds of scale-related conditions, and the heat just felt so _good._

She was about to consider pulling up for another pass, catching a few more rays before she started her search for food, when a great pounding came from beneath the cloud layer. The steady rhythm carried softly through the air, beating drums sounding again and again.

Letting the wind carry her lower, the dragon poked her head through the clouds and stared down at the ground below. A crowd had gathered on the bluffs that bordered the nearby city, the snack-sized ones at the back pounding on their hide-wrapped drums as a robed man gestured wildly, pontificating in the most theatrical way possible to the assembled crowd. A single solitary figure stood behind him, arms spread wide, clasped in chains that bound them to one of the jagged rocks.

As the dragon watched, bemused at the strange antics of the little pink figures, the priest drew a dagger from his robes and raised it above his head as he approached the bound figure.

Her mind made up, the dragon tucked her wings against her sides, and dived.

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Weiss shivered against the rock, freezing cold air whipping off the ocean to bite through skin and chill her to the bone.

It was the perfect setting for a sacrifice. A good portion of the city had turned out to watch her death, old men with greying beards, mothers and fathers with babes on their hips or children under their watchful eyes. She recognized some, the cook's son from the palace, the maid who brushed her hair every morning. '_Used' to brush, _she corrected herself silently. _In about ten minutes, she's going to find herself out of a job._

The only people she didn't see were her family.

_Right. Because it would be _awkward_ watching your own daughter be sacrificed on your orders._

Weiss shivered again as the ocean spray splashed up the cliffside, frigid droplets falling on any skin her dress didn't cover. She stood as tall as she could, ram-rod straight even as the manacles clenched around her wrists. She would show no shame at her treatment, for there was no disgrace in what she was about to do. Stupidity, on the other hand … Well, there was plenty of that.

Anyway, it was less shame than anger that she felt, her fury fed by a growing desire to take her chains and wrap them around the scrawny little bastard's neck.

Weiss continued to fume while the priest resumed his ranting, watching as he worked the crowd into a frenzy. He played on their superstition, preaching and calling, until every normal, peace-loving, and law-abiding citizen was perfectly ready to drain an innocent girl of blood and leave her on a rock for a ravenous animal. The idea that _these _were the people she'd wanted to lead, to govern, to protect … Weiss could scarcely stomach the sight of them.

The knife in the bastard priest's hand was as dramatic as the rest of his little farce, nearly a foot of well-decorated steel, flashing as he flailed about on his makeshift stage. Midway through some new admonishment, some proclamation of how this one sacrifice could end all their suffering, he moved closer, and Weiss braced for what she knew was coming. He brought the tip to her legs, her arms, brushing against her skin and leaving thin streaks of crimson wherever it touched.

It was still a surprise when the blade sank into her side, a sharp pain followed by … nothing. _Shock_, she realized, some part of her recognizing her body's refusal to accept the most-likely fatal wound. The knife raised again, now covered in blood, the priest's arm straining as he pulled back to strike.

A great scream came from the back of the crowd, joined by another, then another, blurring into one long shriek of abject fear as her murderers turned and ran. They stumbled over each other, howling and rushing, desperate to find their way back to the relative safety of the city gates. Weiss allowed herself a small smile at the sight of the city priest, scampering his way to the front of the crowd, pompousness and pride forgotten in his haste.

Her amusement didn't last. Her head was already spinning, blood loss leaving her dizzy as she hung against her restraints. Not that it mattered much. The only thing that it could be, the only thing that could send them screaming, was the very monster they were sacrificing her to appease.

_At least I got to watch them run before I died._

A great golden body swooped down from the sky, skimming past the tail of the fleeing crowd, jaws snapping at their heels as the townsfolk bolted for the safety of the gates. The creature's second pass brought it slamming into the heavy oaken barrier, a stream of flame shooting from its mouth as it screamed its animal rage. The last thing she saw as her vision blurred and her eyes drifted shut, was that angled, reptilian head turning to face her, fire licking from its mouth and tongue, purple eyes narrowed with predatory intent as it charged.

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**Writer's Note: Hello everyone. This is me trying something new. This particular story has *mostly* been written. So, what I will be doing is updating this every Thursday afternoon (US time) for the next few weeks, until it's completed. Y****ou can expect Chapter 2 around this time next week. ****And yes, this chapter is short, but it's the prologue, so it's to be expected.**

**Chapter2 Preview:**

_**The first thing Weiss noticed when she woke was the warmth. Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found herself staring up at a rocky ceiling. Short, cracked stalactites hung above her, sheared off at the tips where something had broken past them. The roof curved above her, arcing down into the rough-hewn walls of bare stone. **_

_**A thick … something lay across her. She pushed herself up on one arm, feeling at her covering. Bearskin? Fur of some sort. Whatever it was, it was warm.**_

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	2. Rescue

**Rescue**

When she woke, the first thing Weiss noticed was the warmth. Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found herself staring up at an uneven, rocky ceiling. Short, cracked stalactites hung above her, sheared off at the tips where something large had broken past them. The roof curved above her, arcing down into rough-hewn walls of bare stone.

A thick ... _something_ lay across her, tucked in under her sides. Pushing herself up on one arm, she felt at the thick covering. Bearskin? Fur of some sort. Whatever it was, it was warm.

It also happened to be her only covering. She was naked, save for the loincloth hiding what was left of her modesty, and a thick bandage running around the still-aching wound in her side.

Clutching the furs to her chest, Weiss stood, doing her best to ignore the pain. The whole cave was warm, a dry heat that filled the air and reminded her of winter nights spent huddled before the fireplace in her father's hall. The hearth always had a way of banishing the cold outside, making the room dry and warm leaving her wanting to do nothing more than curl up on the cushions and sleep.

Not that her home and the cave could be any more different.

As a king's daughter, Weiss was aware that she had spent much of her life in relative luxury. Balls and tournaments had been her daily fare, and she had long become accustomed to the extravagant displays of wealth that the nobility were prone to. Her home had been a place of grandeur, with elaborate frescos of gryphons and deities that covered the walls, marble-floored galleries opening onto expansive gardens, scattered with fountains and painted statues that watched over the court grounds. Weiss had lived a sheltered life, but at least _she_ had always known the difference between luxury and ostentatiousness.

The same could not be said of whoever owned the cave. There was treasure _everywhere_. Piles of coins lay scattered around the room, drachma mixed with lira and strings of currency she couldn't identify, forming a metallic carpet across the rocky floor. Silks of every color spilled from chests and wardrobes, while jewels sparkled with the dim light of torches set in brackets along the stone. Tattered flags of nations and navies Weiss could only guess at hung from the walls, while the torchlight flickered off cracked and gilt-framed mirrors alike, some mounted against the rock, others propped haphazardly against or inside piles of gold and silver.

It was the most incredible collection of wealth the princess had ever seen, and it was completely and utterly ridiculous. 'Collections' – and Weiss used the word _very_ loosely – of various items lay about the space, arranged with seemingly no regard for theme, style, or even general taste. Assorted paintings sat upturned against the walls, looking as though whoever brought them home had simply tossed them wherever they'd found room. Styles and subjects jumbled together with abandon, while scrolls and books sat half-opened, their pages dog-eared or weighted with whatever riches happened to be on hand at that moment. Scraps of cloth – dresses, tunics, himations and chitons – draped across gold-inlayed furniture, wrinkles already set into the delicate fabrics. This was no collection, no carefully-ordered inventory ready to be displayed or used at a moment's notice. It was a horde, plain and simple. Gathered for the sheer pleasure of ownership, each item abandoned when some new bauble was discovered.

A shining blade with a golden hilt sat half-buried in one of the piles, and within seconds it was in her hand. Wherever this cave was, there only one creature who could have scavenged such wealth so irresponsibly, and whatever its reasons for keeping her alive so far, Weiss refused to become some midnight snack for an oversized lizard. Not without a fight.

Her feet scratching on the uneven floor, she clutched the bearskin to her chest, her sword held high, ready to face whatever monstrosity-

"You don't want that one," a wry voice rumbled from deep within the cave.

Weiss blinked. She'd been expecting the monster to charge from the depths of the tunnels, to snap and claw at her while she sank her borrowed blade again and again into its hide. Not for it to speak ...

"You can talk?"

"Apparently. And if you don't mind, that's an antique," the voice spoke again, dry and mocking as it echoed through the cavern. "Honestly though, it's just _gaudy_. Seriously, who makes a solid gold hilt and mounts gems all over it?"

Out of the shadows of the cave came a long, thin-bladed sword, a plain scent-stopper pommel beneath the leather-wrapped hilt, still-sheathed as it slid along the ground towards her.

"Here," the voice rumbled. "_This_ should work much better."

Weiss waited for some sign of movement, for the creature to bound out of the darkness the moment she dropped her guard. When no attack came, she knelt down towards the ground, pinning the bearskin with her knees while she hurriedly fumbled with the scabbard. Drawing the blade as fast as she could, she stood, slowly backing away from the shadows. She spared the sword a glance, feeling the weight of it in her hand. It was a good sword, an excellent one even, the plain settings hiding a blade that was in fine condition and looked to be sharpened to a razor's edge.

"Why would you give me this?" the princess asked, surprised to find the balance almost perfect for her hand.

A golden head as large as her torso emerged slowly from the shadows, lilac eyes glinting in the dim torchlight. Stepping back, Weiss settled into her stance, the tip of her sword angled straight at the monster's snout, her other hand back to clutching the furs against her.

"Cause I have a bunch of them?" it said, seeming almost quizzical, its lips moving in a mockery of human speech.

"... is this some kind of sick joke?" Weiss spat, her blade still pointed directly at the monster. "Do you like playing with your food before you eat it? You get off on tormenting your victims first, lulling them into a false sense of security before your jaws snap shut around th-"

Her tirade was cut short as something soft smacked her in the face, nearly knocking the princess on her ass. Scrabbling desperately at whatever the dragon had blinded her with, she tore the distraction away, only for her eyes to widen in disbelief when her hands found cloth. A white linen gown lay in her hands, fine silver embroidery running along the neck and hemline.

"Took me a while to find something close to your size. Sorry if it's a bit big. The shoes should be good, though." As it spoke, two leather sandals flicked out of the darkness, landing at her feet.

"... what the hell is _wrong _with you?" Weiss snapped, making sure one of the treasure piles was at her back. This _thing_ was trying to distract her, to confuse her until it could strike. She just had to keep it talking, at least until she got a chance to skewer the damn monster.

"What? You'll have an easier time if you don't have to cover your chest with your off-hand." The head pulled back, serpentine features somehow managing to look nonplussed at the princess glaring up at it. "Plus, you look cold."

"Why would it matter to you if I was cold?"

"Cause I'm not an asshole?" the great golden creature said, sounding almost ... offended? "Sorry, but I seriously don't get what's so confusing about this."

Weiss's sword arm trembled as she stared up at the monster. In the past eight hours, she'd been tied up, stabbed, carried away by a dragon for its next meal, apparently _stripped_ by said dragon, and now the damn thing was _toying _with her. Shaking with rage and no longer caring that the odds were nowhere close to being in her favor, Weiss charged, thrusting her blade forward, the tip sinking deep into the dragon's chest.

The dragon screamed, one hand reaching out to clutch the sword, ripping it from her grasp as it tumbled backward, collapsing into a pile of coins. Gems and silks flew every which way as chests shattered beneath its weight, drachma and jewels raining across the cavern as it shrieked one long, dramatic note of pain and rage, a death wail that echoed through the cavern and chilled Weiss to her bones. With a great spasm, the dragon toppled to the ground, its entire length stretched out along the floor. Eyes rolling up in its head, it took one last rattling breath, and died.

"Bleeeech," it said for effect, tongue lolling theatrically from its mouth.

Weiss just stood there with her mouth agape, looking down at the massive creature who had so obviously, and awfully, pretended to die.

The sword clattered on the rock, falling from numb fingers as the princess stared hopelessly down at the psychotic, manipulative monster. One golden eyelid cracked open, the violet eye glancing around before snapping shut in the worst attempt at playing dead Weiss had ever seen.

_It's fucking with me_, she realized, the knowledge ruining any hope of escape that she'd managed to hold onto. No longer caring about the stabbing pain in her side, Weiss fell to her knees, her furs pooling on the floor

"Just do it already. I don't ... I don't care anymore. Just get this over with."

"Oh, for the love of-" Purple eyes opened as the dragon rolled onto its stomach and laid its head along the ground. "Remind me not to save the next sacrifice. I can deal with an upset stomach if it means I don't have to listen to any more of _this_ nonsense."

"... save?"

"Uh, yeah? Who did you think fixed your wound?"

There was some sense to that, although if the dragon wanted its food fresh, there would be just as much reason to keep her from bleeding out. Then again, she had to admit most people didn't dress and arm their food before eating it.

Then again, _a dragon_ could hardly be considered 'most people.'

"You're _not_ going to eat me?" Weiss asked, her tired, blood-loss-addled brain barely able to process the idea that it might, _possibly,_ be true.

"For the last time, no_._" Scales flashed as the long body pulled back on its haunches, leaning back against the wall as it stared down at her "On that note, why would I _want_ to eat you?"

"Because you're a dragon?"

"And?"

"And dragons eat people!" she said.

"Maybe when we're pissed off, but do you have any idea how _awful_ you humans taste? It's like dry, bitter pork, flavored with despair." The dragon grimaced, apparently haunted by the taste. "Hey, there's an idea. If you go back, could you tell them that I'd much prefer a monthly sacrifice of sheep? Preferably on the rare side, and if you just _have_ to season it a bit, I totally won't complain."

Utterly speechless, Weiss stayed on the floor for a long moment, still trying to process having actually been _rescued_ from almost certain death by the very thing she was being sacrificed to.

_Well_, she supposed, _i__t is better than the alternative._

Resigned to the fact that the world no longer worked the right way, she stared up at the massive creature before her. The creature looked back, violet eyes with slitted pupils staring out from beneath golden brows, long whiskers flickering from the sides of its mouth. What looked like antlers jutted from the back of its head, curved and branching into thick forked beams. Powerful shoulders extended into long, scaled legs, ending in five-clawed hands with talons as sharp as blades.

Clutching her furs tighter around her, Weiss glared up at the monster, eyes narrowing accusingly as she scowled.

Head cocking to the side, the dragon pulled its head a little further back, gazing suspiciously down at the fuming princess. "What are you mad about now?"

"Are you going to just sit and watch or can I change?"

"... oh." The dragon ducked its head and Weiss could have sworn she saw the scales on its face turn a darker shade of gold. Moving carefully in place, the great beast turned itself around, until all Weiss could see was a pair of bat-like wings set against the scaly hide.

"Sorry about that," it said, as a taloned arm reached up and over its eyes. "Your clothes were ruined by the time I finished dressing your wound."

"It's ..." Weiss paused, not entirely sure how to deal with a monster that had actually covered its eyes. Not that it really mattered. Either it was telling the truth, and genuinely didn't mean her harm, or it was confident enough that nothing she did would be able to harm it.

Grudgingly accepting that there was little she could do, Weiss fastened the top of the dress around her shoulders, smoothing the folds of the white chiton down past her hips. It was a little long, but otherwise it _was _actually her size. _Which begs the question, _she thought. _Why does a dragon have a woman's clothes? Worse, what happened to whoever they belonged to? _

"It's fine," she finished, deciding there was no sense in asking. It wasn't like she had much choice at the moment. Plus, pissing off the damn thing was probably not her best option.

The dragon was quiet for a long moment before it spoke again, keeping its eyes covered all the while. "Um, you done?"

"... yeah."

"Well, now _that's_ over ..." Pulling away from the wall, the dragon began the process of slowly unfolding itself, trying not to disturb any more of its horde than it already had. Turning enough to face her, the dragon raised a talon and pointed down a nearby tunnel.

"When you want to leave, go left from the cave mouth and you'll find a path back to town. Stick to the right and you'll be home in a few hours, telling everyone how you managed to kill me and escape."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Without a word, Weiss grabbed the gifted sword and strode off towards the exit, sandaled feet stomping on the stone floor. Either the damn thing was going to kill her or it wasn't. Either way, there was little she could do, other than get as far away from the bloody place as possible. After a few minutes, the cavernous tunnel opened up into a secluded grove, the cave entrance hidden from prying eyes by a thick treeline. Looking for some sort of trap and finding none, she turned to the left and marched through the trees.

She was a good twenty minutes down the road before the flapping of wings hit her ears. Sword already in hand, she spun, looking up to find the dragon looking down at her from above.

The serpentine head hovered just out of reach, cat-like eyes staring at her in what might have been confusion. Not that she could be sure. The reptilian face wasn't exactly built for normal human expressions.

"Um, in case you didn't hear me, your city is the _other _way."

Scowling, Weiss slammed the blade back into its scabbard. "I'm not going back," she said over her shoulder, leaving the confused dragon behind her as she continued down the path.

The next mile or so was uneventful, apart from the winged shadow that followed her along the road, sweeping down over hills and treetops and never quite leaving her sight. Every so often, it would swoop a little lower, careful not to buffet her with its wings,

By its third pass, she had officially lost her patience with her unwanted companion. She was about to turn and scream for the damn thing to just leave her alone when it spoke, its rumbling voice soft and quiet.

"Can I ask why?"

"You mean _other_ than the fact that they were perfectly willing to let me bleed out to appease a monster?"

"... good point." The dragon was quiet for a while, still just following along. "Why would they want to appease me, exactly?"

"Because you kept _attacking_ people."

"If by 'people,' you mean raiders ... then yeah." When Weiss stayed silent, the dragon leaned forward, craning its neck around to look the princess in the face. "What? The only treasure I took was already stolen. I was _trying_ to be helpful."

"Well in the future, do us all a favor, and _don't_."

The long whiskers on the dragon's snout drooped a little, the head dipping a little lower as it hovered alongside her.

"Just so you know, there's not another village, much less a town, in this direction for about four days."

"It's fine," Weiss snapped back. Even assuming she believed the creature **_–_** which she didn't **_– _**there was bound to be _someone_ on the road – a farmer or merchant whose cart she could hitch a ride on. As soon as she did, she'd travel as far as they were willing to take her. Maybe a little further. It didn't matter where, as long as it was as far away from the mob who'd tried to murder her as she could get.

Eventually, the dragon dipped down again, swimming through the air until its head was alongside her. "From those clouds, looks like it's gonna rain soon."

"I said I'm fine."

"... okay." After that, the dragon stayed quiet. Apparently, it was content just to swim through the air above her, its tail swishing back and forth as it moved.

She ignored it best she could. There wasn't any real way she could make it leave, and so long as the damn thing just left her alone, she didn't care what it did. Just when Weiss was getting her hopes up that it might finally flap off and leave her be, it swooped down, sharp-toothed jaw opening as it spoke.

"You know, if you wanted, I could-"

Rounding on the giant lizard, Weiss planted her hands on her hips, leaning to glare directly into the large violet eyes.

"Piss off!"

With a sigh, the dragon spiraled its way back up into the air, finally leaving her wonderfully, blessedly _alone._

Which, of course, was when it decided to rain. At first, it was a few droplets, a light drizzle that, after several hours of walking, was actually rather refreshing.

It didn't last. Within the hour, the soft rain turned to an unrelenting downpour. Within seconds, her shoulders and back were damp from the rain, water streaming from her nose as she wrapped her arms around her sides. Water drenched her clothes; the pale gown was fit for a noble, but traveling gear it was _not. _Minutes later, she was soaked from head to toe, shivering as she continued trudging down the increasingly muddy path.

Lightning flashed in the darkened sky, followed by thunder rolling in the distance. Rain pounding on her head, Weiss surrendered to the elements. Darting beneath the nearest tree, she yanked a few of the branches tighter over her head, holding back slightly more of the water. Droplets still dripped down between the leaves, falling onto her head and the thick cushion of pine needles covering the ground. Pressing her back against the trunk, Weiss let her legs collapse out from under her, shivering as she slumped down with her head pressed against her knees, aching feet finally given a rest.

Just as suddenly as it started, the rain stopped. Well ... some of it did. Looking out from under the canopy of branches, Weiss could still see the falling rain splattering against the dirt, puddles forming wherever the uneven ground dipped. The ground was wet enough to slowly be shifting from dirt to mud, the packed road the only real solid bit of ground nearby.

Curious, and already half-guessing what she'd find, Weiss looked up, to tired even to curse as she saw what was blocking the rain. A great gold body was coiled above her, wrapped around the tree she was seated beneath, water draining off its sides as it shielded her from the rain.

"Why do you keep following me?" she finally asked, staring out into the storm, not bothering to look up at the creature.

"I was worried about you."

"... why?"

"Other than the wild boar, a few bandits, and the increasingly likely chance of your wound re-opening?" the dragon asked dryly. "No reason."

"No, I ..." Weiss trailed off. None of this day made any sense. Her own father had ordered her sacrifice, she'd been _stabbed,_ and rescued by some flying monstrosity. Now she sat in a borrowed dress that probably belonged to one of the dragon's former meals while golden scales shielded her from the rain.

"My own family just tried to kill me. For you_. _You're not even human, so why do you _care_?"

Slowly, the dragon wound its way down the tree, coils wrapping tight around the bark to keep the rain at bay. Its head snaked towards her, lowering until it was on her level.

"If it's my fault they tried to kill you, then the least I can do is keep you from freezing or bleeding to death."

"... you have a name?" the princess asked, head resting in her hands.

"You actually want to know?"

"I can't just call you 'stupid-dragon-that-got-me-sacrificed,' now can I?"

Snorting through its snout, the golden head pulled back just a little. Gnashing its teeth, the creature let out one long growling, purring sound, the entire thing full of consonants piled upon gutturals and completely and totally unintelligible. "You get that?"

Thoroughly _not_ in the mood, Weiss stared deadpan at the scaled face over her knees.

"Go with 'Yang,'" it said, humor flickering in its slitted eyes. "Should be short enough for your tongue to get it."

"Fine," she said, trying to decide whether she should be offended. "Thank you for blocking the rain, Yang."

She shivered, pulling her arms tighter around her knees, hands rubbing at her arms as she tried to warm herself. The sopping wet linen clung to her skin, sucking any heat out away from her body, not matter how she tried to get warm.

Careful to keep one wing held out over the shivering princess, Yang lowered her body to the ground, scaled legs bending until her chest rested on the damp earth.

"Get on. I'll take you back to my cave."

"And why the hell would I want to do that?" Weiss asked, incredulous at the very notion.

"Because it's warm, you can dry off, and I promise I'll fly you wherever you want to go tomorrow," Yang said. "I owe you that much."

"... you're _not_ going to eat me?"

"Oh for the love of ... I swear on the river Styx, I will not devour you in your sleep."

Weiss thought it over. There were dire consequences to breaking a vow like that. For some odd reason, spirits of the dead didn't take kindly to having their vows broken. If the drag ... if Yang was willing to make that vow, she'd _probably_ be safe. Probably.

"Or when I wake up."

"Or when you wake up."

"Or harm me in any way."

"Or harm you in any way," Yang growled, making a show of rolling her eyes. "Happy?"

"No," she admitted, and after the day she'd had it was hardly surprising. "But it'll do."

Moving across the thick carpet of pine, Weiss carefully stepped up onto Yang's foreleg, pushing off the scaled skin as she hauled herself up onto its back. She settled in between two ridges on its spine, hands holding tight to the one in front of her. Even from its back, she could feel the tension building in the dragon's muscles, legs straining as its muscles coiled beneath her.

"Hold on tight."

With one great lunge, Yang leapt from the earth, wings beating as she took to the sky. Cursing whatever insanity had let her pull this stunt, Weiss' arms tightened in a death grip around the spine in front of her, clinging for dear life to the dragon's back. The wind streaked past her, grabbing at her dress and whipping what loose fabric there was to-and-fro. The pounding rain beat against her for a moment, and then the two soared out from beneath the storm, high above the moonlit ground.

Yang slowed once they were out of the storm, swimming at a much more sedate pace as they passed over the road Weiss had spent hours walking. Looking down at the road, the princess shook with the cold, chill wind turning her soaked clothes to ice. Trying her best to stay warm, she huddled as close as she could to the dragon's back, her arms and legs covered in goosebumps.

"Sorry," Yang said, dropping a little lower into slightly warmer air. "We'll be there soon."

"You know, you c-could have suggested this a l-little earlier," Weiss said as she shivered, arms wrapped around the dragon's sides and desperately trying not to think about what would happen if she fell. "Maybe when the sun was still up."

"I tried." The dragon twisted its neck to look back at her, mischief plain on its face. "You told me to piss off."

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**Writer's Note: Well, there we go. Chapter 3 will be up next Thursday afternoon US time.**

_**Chapter3 Preview: **_

**_"It's a story my father's minstrel told me once. There was a girl whose stepmother changed her into a dragon, and her curse could only be broken if a prince came to kiss her three times." Weiss felt her face grow hot, and turned away, staring into a corner of the cave. "I thought ... you don't _act_ like a dragon, so it only made sense ..."_**

**"_You wanted to be the gallant princess and save me from my monstrous fate?" the dragon laughed, violet eyes sparkling with amusement. "Whisk me away to your castle and marry me in some happily ever after? Princess, I had no idea you were such a _romantic_."_**

**"_It's a story, you ass. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly an expert on all things 'dragon.'" _**

**The dragon's head reached around to look at her, its snout briefly resting on her head before it pulled away. "_Sorry. The story is right by the way, they just got the number wrong."_**

**"... _seriously?"_**

"_**Yup. It's actually **_**four**_** times."**_

**Also, I got a couple questions about Yang's size. Yang is closer in style to a Greek or Chinese dragon (logically), although for the fun of it, I still gave her wings. So, she's longer, lower to the ground, and more serpent-like than the majority of western dragons. Size-wise, she'd be about 9 to 10 meters long, so around the size of Haku from Spirited Away. I said that her head is larger than Weiss' torso, but Weiss is fairly petite, so ... **

**As for location: This occurs in generic fantasy anachronistic pseudo Greece (although Yang's more of an Asian dragon - she got bored and started wandering, which is why she has strings of Chinese coins in her hoard). It's the kind of Greece that most myths occur in, mainly because the myths were told again and again and took on elements from various eras.**

**Please review if you can! Views are great, but they don't tell me what anyone actually thought of the fic.**


	3. Change

**Change**

It was pitch-black by the time Yang set down outside the mouth to her cave. Without a word, the dragon walked inside, Weiss still clinging to her back. Careful to keep from rubbing the girl off on the ceiling, she made her way deeper into the tunnels, eventually coming out into the caverns that held her hoard, torchlight glinting off coins and scales alike as she moved. She wound her way through her treasures, past the piles of gold and silver and _objets d'art_, until she came to a divot in the floor against one wall.

Sweeping a cascade of coins aside, Yang cleared a section of the floor, revealing a ring of stones set into the ground. Crouching against the ground, she raised one fore-leg enough for Weiss to step down, her legs wobbly from the awkward position on the dragon's back. Reaching over, Yang took hold of an empty wooden dresser, ornate gilded shelves sliding out of intricately-carved slots as she raised it with her tail. Within seconds, it was crushed within her coils, the shattered remnants dumped unceremoniously into the fire-pit. One quick breath set the dry wood ablaze, and Weiss sighed happily as the warmth flooded through her. Ignoring the cinders sparking into the air, she reached out for the fire, warming her palms before returning to rubbing at her arms.

"Thanks," she said, more glad to be warm than anything.

"Don't mention it." With a flick of her tail, Yang disappeared down one of the side tunnels. She was gone just long enough for Weiss to turn, trying to keep the heat of the fire from growing too painful on her skin. When the dragon returned, her tail was coiled around an iron-banded chest, which she promptly plunked down next to the princess.

"It's clothes. Just pick whatever you like. You're kind of ... well, I figured you'd rather be in something less ... revealing."

Weiss glanced down, and immediately pulled her arms tighter around her. Even with the fire, her gown was still drenched. The wet cloth clung to every curve she had and left precious little to the imagination. Arms still crossed in front of her chest, Weiss glared until the dragon turned and wandered deeper into the cave.

Changing into new, dry clothes was more difficult than she'd expected. The dragon's chest might be filled to the brim, but very little of what Yang had 'collected' fit on Weiss' smaller frame. Of the clothes that did, very few held any appeal to the princess. Apparently, dragon's tastes ran more towards fairly diaphanous silks.

She eventually settled on a woven _peplos_, and started folding and pinning the gown into place. It was thinner than she'd like, but by far the most concealing and least ostentatious garment in the chest. At least the length of white linen was mostly plain, apart from the decorative border along the edge. A more-or-less matching _himation_ went around her shoulders, both cloak and robe pinned in place by broaches she found scattered at the bottom of the chest.

Sufficiently clothed, Weiss returned to the fire, draping her still-damp robe atop the lid of the chest to dry.

Minutes later, a cry of victory echoed through the tunnels, and Yang returned looking particularly pleased with herself. "I knew I had one of these things around here somewhere."

'One of these things' turned out to be a mattress, a lumpy, odd-looking wool-stuffed bed made even stranger-looking by being dropped randomly on the cold stone floor. It had the musty smell of something that hadn't been let out to air, and Weiss noted the lack of sheets, but at least it looked softer than the rock beneath her feet.

"Figured you'd prefer a bed," the dragon rumbled, apparently thinking the same as she curled around on the opposite side of the crackling fire. "Sorry if it's not up to royal standards."

"I'm sure it's fine."

Without a reason to speak, the two sat in silence, both staring unseeing into the dancing flames. Shadows danced along the walls, cast by the piles of Yang's hoard and the two mismatched figures. Every so often, Yang would let out a puff of air through her nose, making the flames flicker and leap and causing their silhouettes to spasm and writhe.

"Can I ask a question?" the dragon finally asked, her voice low and quiet.

"You're the host." Weiss didn't particularly feel like talking, but that was no excuse for rudeness. She was the guest – the least she could do was answer a question.

"How did you get picked as a sacrifice anyway?" The scaled head cocked to the side, eyes unreadable in the flickering firelight. "If it's too personal, I understand."

The princess hesitated for a moment, shifting on the ground, and pulled her legs up against her chest before she answered. "A few fishermen came back to town ranting, saying they spotted a dragon attacking ships off the coast. No one believed them, at least for a while. But you kept attacking sailors-"

"Pirates," Yang interrupted, somehow managing to make a scaled tooth-filled maw look petulant.

"... and after a few of your attacks, the local priest started preaching that you'd to have been sent by an angered god. According to him, the only way to keep you from attacking the town was a sacrifice – an offering to appease whoever had sent you – and it would only work if it was someone of noble birth. Since a dragon's sacrifice must be a beautiful maiden of unquestionable virtu-"

Weiss scowled as anything she was about to say was drowned out by howls of laughter from the supine dragon. Forelegs clutching her sides, Yang rolled over on the floor, tail twitching wildly as she chortled.

"Bit full of yourself, ain't ya?" she snickered, tail-tip swiping at tears that streamed down her snout. "_Unquestionable_ virtue? Seriously? Being virginal's supposed to make you _that_ much more delicious?"

"Shut up."

"Oh yeah, cause a dragon's gonna bite in, look confused, and ask 'Hey, where's the virgin filling?'"

"I said shut it!" Weiss snarled, glowering until the dragon finally stopped giggling and rolled back onto its stomach. "_Anyway_. Since my sister is married, that just left me."

"And no one tried to stop it?" Yang asked, suddenly serious. "I mean, if your dad's in charge, he can't have been okay with this."

"The people believed it was the only way to save the city. If he hadn't agreed, I doubt it would have taken long for someone to rile up enough anger for a riot." Weiss spoke without emotion, her voice flat and calm as she stared at the floor. She understood the decision. It couldn't have been an easy choice to make. If she had been Queen ... maybe. _Maybe_ she would have been able to send one of her own children to their death.

"Plus, I'm the second, unmarried daughter. The spare."

"I'm sorry," Yang said quietly, and to Weiss' surprise, she believed her.

"It's not _entirely_ your fault." In all fairness, it wasn't. Assuming the dragon was telling the truth, she hadn't gone after innocent fishermen or merchants. It was a short-sighted, myopic decision perhaps, but not one done from malice.

"My turn," Weiss said, shaking her head to clear it. The _last_ thing she needed now was to start making excuses for a dragon. "Why come here in the first place?"

The dragon arched its wings for a second before the settled again, in a gesture that Weiss assumed must be some form of draconic shrug. "I just, sort of ... ended up here."

Large slitted eyes met implacable blue, thoroughly skeptical and very obviously not taking something that flippant as an answer. Sighing, the dragon looked away, plunking her head a little lower on the ground.

"Fair enough," she mumbled before letting out one long sigh that made the fire leap wildly. "I ... lost someone a while ago. What trail I could follow ended here. Didn't have anything to go back to, so I figured I'd stay a while, see if I could find _something_."

"Did you?"

The dragon just stared blankly into the shadows, her silence more than enough of an answer.

Picking herself up off the ground, the princess made her way across the rock floor. Stepping over the odd knickknack or treasure, she came to a stop beside the dragons' neck. Not entirely sure why, Weiss laid her hand on Yang's head, palm resting on the ridged scales of her brow. Awkward and uncertain, she patted the beast's head, hoping that the gesture would translate across species.

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Yang asked, still not turning to look at her.

Weiss scowled and pulled her hand away. "So sorry I don't know how to sympathize properly with a dragon."

She made it two steps before a draconic tail reached slowly out in front of her, not blocking the princess' path so much as asking for her attention. Exasperated, she turned, fury already on her lips, only to find herself face to face with the dragon herself.

"Thanks," Yang said before lowering her head back to the ground.

"... don't mention it."

The wind fully taken out of her sails, Weiss stood there for a moment, surprised to find herself unable to decide on what to do. She could do what she'd been about to: march back to her side of the fire, maybe try to smooth out the lumpy mattress the dragon had bothered to scrounge for her. Or ...

The ground _would_ be just as warm here as on the other side. More so, since Weiss doubted the presence of a fire-breathing lizard would cool the area any. There was no real reason for her to walk all the way back just to sit down.

Sufficiently justified, Weiss seated herself along the dragon's side, leaning back until her spine rested against Yang's body. As she'd thought, the dragon was warm, almost matching the fire currently toasting her front.

"So," Yang yawned, "I have no idea what's polite for you humans when it comes to sleep and stuff. Should I go find another place?"

"You're warm, so you can stay," Weiss said, settling a little more of her weight back against the thick hide. "But if the fire goes out, I expect you to fix it."

"Of course, your highness." With a short huff, Yang settled down, her tail giving the occasional flick, and closed her eyes.

Weiss snorted in derision. By this point, the only title she could claim was a posthumous one.

She suppressed a shiver and pushed a little further back against Yang. It was a thought she'd been avoiding. That her family, her people, everyone she knew believed her dead. Then came the memory of how quickly they'd turned on her. How they'd left her to ...

She shook her head, hands tightening into fists until her fingers stopped shaking. Thankfully, and with a little effort, thoughts of home eventually gave way to questions about the drowsing creature seated at her back. The one that had scooped her out of harm's way, only to carry her home and – Weiss was forced to admit – do her best to make the princess comfortable. It was inexplicable, the kind of tale she would have laughed at days earlier, ridiculous fancies befitting a child.

Nothing made sense any more. Dragons were _supposed_ to be vicious, avaricious fiends, obsessed with their growing hoards and more than happy to devour any sentient creature that stumbled upon their lairs. The few that weren't were even worse, summoned by vengeful gods for some real or imagined slight, their rage and destruction aimed specifically to punish those who had dared anger the heavens. Not that Yang seemed like either of those. No scorched corpses decorated her walls and, if her story was true, the previous owners of her hoard had little claim to their possessions. Maybe Yang was different, some rare breed of dragon that retained its soul. Maybe ...

Maybe Yang wasn't _actually _a dragon. Weiss had heard stories of people transformed into monsters, of princes and children cursed by scorned witches or jealous relatives. It was possible, and at least it made _some_ sense. It would explain why a dragon would act so ... well, _human_. Why it would go so far out of its way to help her.

Then again, one would think someone like that would actually _mention_ that they were cursed into being a monster. Still, maybe Yang had given up hope that the curse could be broken. Maybe years of being treated like a mindless beast had convinced her that no one would _bother_ trying to help her. That no one could see past the scales long enough to notice the person underneath.

Trying to make up her mind, Weiss looked over at the drowsing dragon. Staring at the golden head resting on one foreleg, the princess bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think of some reason not to do the increasingly insane idea that was forming in her head. A curse did make the most sense, really. It couldn't hurt to try. If it didn't work, then it didn't, and she would be none the worse for wear. And if it did ... Plus, with those scales, Weiss doubted Yang would even feel anything.

Gritting her teeth, the white-haired woman swallowed her pride and, cheeks burning, pressed her lips three times to the dragon's scaled cheek.

Eyes like blooming hyacinth shot open as the great golden head reared back, nearly knocking Weiss on her ass as it did. Yang blinked, looking completely caught off guard as she stared down at the suddenly preoccupied princess near her.

"Sorry," Weiss said, suddenly very concerned with fixing one of the pins on her robe. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine, just," Yang trailed off, her body settling back on the ground as she stared somewhat warily at her companion. "Um, you mind terribly explaining what that was about?"

"What _what_ was about?"

"... the kissing?"

Several very choice curses flashed through Weiss' head. "It doesn't matter. It' didn't work."

"Yeah, that's not gonna cut it," the dragon said, twisting to get a better look at her. "You spent most of today yelling at me, and then you kiss me out of nowhere. A little clarification would be nice."

For a second, Weiss considered telling her it was just a normal custom. Some sort of thank-you, or a polite way to wish goodnight. Anything other than admit ...

"It's a story my father's minstrel told me once," she finally said, head held high as she ignored the heat rushing to her face. Yang blinked, but kept her silence, waiting for the white-haired woman to continue.

"There was a girl whose stepmother changed her into a dragon, and her curse could only be broken if a prince came to kiss her three times." Weiss felt her face grow hot, and turned away, staring off into a corner of the cave. "I thought ... since you don't _act_ like a dragon, maybe ..."

"You wanted to be the gallant princess and save me from my monstrous fate?" the dragon laughed, violet eyes sparkling with amusement. "So _that's _what that was. What was the plan? Whisk me away to your palace and marry me in some happily ever after? I had no idea you were such a romantic, Princess."

"It's a story, you ass. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly an expert on all things 'dragon.' Stories are about all I've got to go on."

The dragon's head reached around to look at her, snout briefly resting against her shoulder before it pulled away. "Sorry. The story is right by the way, they just got the number wrong."

"... really?"

"Yup. Wicked stepmother, evil curse, horrible fate, blah blah," Yang said, whiskers twitching. "Only, it's actually _four_ kisses."

"Piss off."

"Hey, I'm being serious here." As Weiss stood, ready to storm off, Yang's head snuck around her side, staying low to the ground so she could look the princess in the eye. "You want me to turn into a beautiful girl or not?"

"Now who's full of themselves?"

"Hey. I'm a _dra-gon. _Vanity kinda comes with the territory."

"... one more?" Weiss asked, her voice dripping with cynicism as she bit the inside of her cheek.

"Yup. Just one more kiss if you want me to turn human."

Scowling, and still half-convinced this was some trick from the all too innocent-looking dragon, Weiss leaned in and gave the scaled cheek a quick, short brush of her lips. Leaning back, she looked up at the massive creature, waiting for ... _something._

Nothing happened.

"You call that a kiss?" Yang turned her head to look down at the much smaller princess. "You can't do magic by halves, gorgeous. Well, you can, but then you have to wish for half as much more, and you end up in a desert, and everybody gets confused."

"Screw you."

"Weiss, you have to _mean_ it," Yang said, the deep rumble of her voice sounding increasingly exasperated. "It can't just be some quick little thing. The magic to break a curse like that ... you need to _feel_ something for the other person, to actually ca-"

Weiss cut Yang off with a kiss, gripping the dragon's antlers and yanking her head down to the much smaller princess' level. This time, it was no quick press of lips to scales, no reluctant peck. Weiss held on, trapping the creature in place, her eyes closed as she leaned in, her lips pressed against the larger, scaly ones, desperately trying to feel _something_ through the dragon's hide.

The first thing than ran through her mind was that Yang was warm. Impossibly warm. It was like kissing a flame, one that managed to just barely keep from burning her. For all that she'd expected hard scales and unforgiving fangs, Yang was ... _soft_. Soft like ...

Weiss' eyes flew open, only to squint against the light filling the entire cavern. Every inch, every coil of the great dragon was gleaming, shining with a light that was almost painful to behold. Before Weiss' eyes, Yang's body began to shrink, her silhouette shrouded in a light that banished all shadows from the cave. It glinted off each scrap of metal, each coin, each mirror, until the entire room shone with golden light, where the only thing truly visible was the steadily shrinking body in front of her.

Some part of Weiss realized the light was fading, that the body slowly, achingly forming was hovering a good foot off the ground. As the last of the light faded, she fell, and Weiss caught the figure out of pure instinct, speechless as she stared down at the creature in her arms.

A blonde woman remained in the dragon's place, her hair the same gold as the creature's scales, her skin dyed tan by the sun. Weiss could hardly have believed that the two were one and the same, but for the eyes. The same eyes the dragon had, glittering shards of amethyst, almond-shaped with catlike pupils that always seemed to flicker with humor. Scales and wings had given way to well-toned skin, ridiculously defined muscles running along her arms and core, and leaving Weiss suddenly all too aware of the hard sinews beneath her hands. She was one of the most beautiful women the princess had ever seen, and she was completely, utterly naked.

Not that the former dragon seemed to mind. Immediately after her transformation, Yang's first order of business was to twine her arms behind Weiss' neck, purring as she leaned in for another kiss.

"My hero."

Weiss dropped her to the floor without a second thought.

The former dragon fell hard on the rocky surface, brows furrowing as her newfound skin landed on the hard stone. "Ow! The hell?"

"Put some clothes on," Weiss said, pleased that she managed to keep her voice mostly level.

Yang pouted and pushed herself to her feet. "I was naked ten seconds ago and you didn't seem to mind."

"You were a _dragon_ then," the ivory-haired woman harped, eyes very pointedly looking anywhere other than at the nude – and annoyingly buxom – blonde standing before her.

"Hate to break it to you babe, but I'm _still_ a dragon." As if to prove a point, the blonde woman breathed, a short jet of flame followed by a massive puff of smoke flowing from her lips and dissipating into the air. "But if it makes you feel better, I can always switch back to the scales-"

"Just put _something_ on," Weiss said, half-pleading as she kept her eyes judiciously focused on a goblet half-buried in one of the nearby piles.

"Alright, alright. If you insist." True to her word, a rustling of cloth came from behind the princess' back, followed by the telltale sound of fabric sliding over skin. When it stopped, Weiss turned to find Yang clad in a short tunic and nothing else, the front of the billowing white cloth left purposefully loose, leaving a good expanse of tanned cleavage bare to the naked eye.

"Seriously?"

Yang shrugged, the gesture causing enough movement to make Weiss blush. "I'm used to feeling the air on my scales. I don't like clothes."

The princess gave her an arch look and waved one hand at the chest, still filled to the brim with silks expensive enough to feed a small village for several years. "Could have fooled me."

"I like _having_ them. Just not _wearing_ them."

Rolling her eyes, Weiss let it slide, knowing a refusal to accept reality when she heard one. To be fair, dragons didn't actually have much need for clothing, and depending on how long Yang had been stuck as one ...

_Wait a second._

"If you're still a dragon, what was the point of the kiss?" Weiss asked, the hackles on the back of her neck rising in suspicion. "Why didn't it work all the way?"

"Yeah, 'bout that," Yang said, scratching at the back of her neck and doing particularly good impression of a child caught taking sweets. "I like you kissing me a lot more than you shouting at me, so ..."

The dragon ducked as a large brass goblet flew at her head, plucked by the scarlet-faced and furious princess from the nearest treasure pile.

"Hey!" Yang objected, hands raised to protect her head as the shorter woman "You're the one who started it."

"_I _was trying to help!" Weiss shouted, running out of things to throw and settling for punching every inch of the other woman she could reach. "You perverted, lecherous, _obnoxious_ little-"

Ignoring the blows raining down on her shoulders, Yang stepped in and wrapped her arms around the shorter woman's waist. Immediately, Weiss froze, hands still raised, intent forgotten as the former dragon hugged the princess to her.

"I wanted to know that you actually meant it," she said, tucking the princess' head beneath her chin. "And I'm sorry that I implied I was under some horrible curse. It was a very nice thing of you to do, even if I'm perfectly happy being what I am."

"You did _technically_ save my life," Weiss muttered, trying to decide between punching her again and hugging her back. She settled for not pulling away, standing still while Yang wrapped herself around her. "I just ... I felt I owed you that much."

"Sure," the dragon said, and Weiss could have sworn she felt the blonde grinning above her. "Definitely no other reason for the kiss."

"Not in the least."

Finally, Yang let go, grinning even as she braced against any more retribution the princess might have for her. Sighing, Weiss sat back against the ground, looking at the slowly shrinking fire and refusing to be distracted by the disturbingly well-toned legs extending out from beneath the blonde's tunic.

"So you can _always_ do this?"

"Yup. How did you think I got the bandages on you?" Yang asked, a careful eye checking to make sure Weiss hadn't started bleeding again. "Transfiguration is pretty much the only magic I can pull off without help."

Weiss huffed and pulled her arms about her knees. "You really are just a dragon."

"Wow. One day and already it's 'just a dragon,'" the blonde drawled, perching on the chest of clothes. "Sheesh, you get _one _ride on dragonback and suddenly everything's so blasé."

"I meant-"

"I know what you meant," Yang said. "My question is why you really wanted me to be human."

"I told you," Weiss muttered. "I thought you might be cursed, and I felt like I owed you."

"Uh huh."

Yang left it at that, kicking her feet absently before jumping down off the iron-banded chest.

"Hey, Princess?" she asked, sitting down beside Weiss.

"What?"

Two fingers tapped her shoulder, and Weiss turned to find her nose and inch away from the blonde's.

"Can I kiss _you_ this time?"

Face flushed, Weiss scooted back along the floor, trying to get some distance between the two of them. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Well, you can't breathe fire or flutter your wings or arch your tail, so all my usual signs of mutual attraction are kinda useless at the moment." Yang kept her distance, but one hand reached out and brushed a stray lock of ivory hair back behind Weiss' ear. "You look pinker though. Is that good?"

"S-shut up."

"Sorry, but I'm flying blind here, so if you could just tell me-"

Rolling her eyes, Weiss grabbed the back of the blonde's neck, yanking somewhat harder than she had to and pulling Yang down into a kiss. A_ real_ kiss, not a short peck against her cheek, not pressed against an oversized mouth covered in scales. The dragon's warmth spread from her lips, wiping any thought from Weiss' mind as she held the taller woman against her. Yang was quick to respond in kind, one hand coming up to cup Weiss' cheek as she leaned into the embrace, her mouth opening slightly and inviting Weiss' to do the same.

Eventually, the two came up for air. Doing her best to ignore the heat rushing to her face, Weiss scowled as angrily as she could manage while her heart pounded in her chest. "That clear enough for you?"

"Crystal," Yang said, beaming down at her and sending Weiss' face into a whole new shade of red. "Thanks."

Another kiss followed, and another, until Weiss had melted into the other woman's arms. A humming thrill ran from her fingers to her toes, while the hands placed gently over her hips were fire against her skin. Even the occasional ache in her side no longer bothered her, part of her putting it down to whatever natural magic the blonde had to carry, the rest hardly caring so long as Yang kept her lips clasped to Weiss' own.

"You know," Yang said in a brief pause between caresses. "If you wanted, I _could_ be persuaded to make you immune to any future sacrifices."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Weiss asked, her voice catching as Yang pressed her lips against the pulse fluttering in her throat.

"You know how if you catch a cold, you can't usually catch that same cold again?"

"Yeah," the princess said cautiously, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Well, if they only offer virgin girls as sacrifices, then all I'd have to do is take your-"

Weiss' now-dry clothes smacked Yang in the face, followed by anything Weiss could rip from the chest, burying the smiling, laughing dragon in shimmering, fabric-based fury.

* * *

**Well, here's the new update. Now, a chunk of the next chapter is cut from the FanFiction version for content reasons. It's not necessarily plot-critical, but it includes characterization elements. If you'd like to see it, you can find the uncensored version on AO3, but it's not necessary.**

**Chapter 4 Preview:**

"_**So," the dragon said, peeking through the trees at the nearby town. "You good to go from here, Princess?"**_

"_**I'm not exactly a princess anymore."**_

"_**Well, I'd call you 'Cupcake,' but it took you sooo long to accept that I wasn't gonna eat you ..."**_

**Assorted terms:**

_**Chiton**_**: A tunic-like garment worn by the ancient Greeks.**

_**Peplos**_**: Either worn atop a chiton or alone, it was a longer ream of cloth folded over and pinned at both shoulders. Typical attire for women around 500 BCE.**

_**Himation**_**: Outer cloak-like garment.**

**Please review!**


	4. Return

**Sorry about the delay – combination of work and me picking up a good book that slowed down my writing process. Hopefully it won't happen again. An uncensored version of this chapter will be available on AO3.**

* * *

**Return**

The next morning, Weiss was only mildly surprised to find Yang was as good as her word. As soon as the sun was high in the sky, the once-again dragon led the princess out of the cave, kneeling low enough for Weiss to clamber up onto her back. Hefting her scrounged bag – filled with supplies and a pouch of coins Yang had insisted she take – the white-haired woman stepped up onto the scaled foot, using it as a step to swing her leg over the dragon's spine. After some brief slipping on scales, Weiss settled herself, and lashed the bag around one of Yang's spines for good measure. The last thing they needed was for a strong wind or a quick turn to knock the thing from her grasp.

Her thoughts had just turned to the idea that it might be a good idea to tie _herself_ to the dragon, when Yang coiled beneath her, muscles tensing as she crouched low against the ground.

"Hold on tight."

"Yang, I thin-"

Anything else Weiss would have said was swallowed as Yang shot up into the sky, powerful wings beating furiously. Weiss clung for dear life to her scaled ride, wind whipping past her face and streaming her hair out behind her, a long white tresses flapping above the dragon's back. High enough in the air to make the princess sincerely wish she was back on solid ground, Yang leveled out, shifting until Weiss no longer had to worry about falling off.

"Couldn't you fly a little slower?" Weiss snapped, doing her best not to look down while her heart pounded in her chest. No matter how many times she did this, she doubted she'd ever get used to the sheer blood-pumping terror of flying dragonback. '_How many times?' _she thought, shocked at the turn her mind had taken. _'Get used to it?' What the hell am I thinking?_

"Hey, when you get wings, _then_ you can criticize my flying," Yang humphed, twisting back around to face into the wind. "Let's see _you _try a vertical take-off, see how you like it."

Their trip was uneventful, forested paths making way for lush fields dotted with fluffy white clouds of sheep let out to pasture. Mountains rose and fell on their left as they soared up the coast, Yang's length shifting from side to side as she swam through the air, her wings beating steadily. Northward they went, passing over small villages, fishing boats, and farmsteads until a decent-sized town finally came into view.

Yang pulled up, making Weiss cling ever tighter to her back, well above the town before angling back and down. At a far slower pace than their takeoff, Yang drifted towards the nearest grove, careful to stay out of sight from any watchmen the town might have. The woods were thick and green, enjoying the summer warmth, and Weiss had no doubt that even if someone had seen a large golden serpent sail through the sky, the chance of them finding them in the woods was slim to none. Leisurely winding through the trees, Yang made her way back towards the town, settling on the ground just shy of the treeline, one foreleg raised to give Weiss an impromptu ladder down to the ground.

Weiss' first few steps were unsteady, her legs unaccustomed to the odd winding motion Yang made while she was in flight. Taking a moment to get used to the sudden lack of lateral movement, she stared out through the trees, watching as a long chain of travelers and neighboring farmers trickled in through the city gates. Her balance regained, she reached up and untied her satchel from Yang's spines.

"So," the dragon said, head bobbing slightly as she turned to look at Weiss.

"So."

"... well, the money should get you pretty far," Yang said after a moment, breaking the growing silence as Weiss searched for something to say. "Get a decent horse and you should be able to go wherever you want."

"Thank you for that."

Yang made her approximation of a human shrug, wings rising and falling as she cocked her head to the side. "It's not like I _use_ most of my stuff. I can part with a small bag of coins."

Weiss snorted, remembering the sack currently resting at the bottom of the satchel. Yang's definition of 'small' would be enough to feed a village for a year or more, if not buy the place outright. Then again, for a dragon with a literal cave full of treasure, it might actually be the right word.

"So," the dragon said again, somehow managing to be over three times her size and still seem awkward. "You gonna get going, or ..."

"I'm waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to transform," Weiss frowned, giving the dragon a look that very clearly said she expected her to be quicker on the uptake. "Obviously."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I can hardly be expected to carry _everything_ I'll have to buy."

The dragon snorted, sending a cloud of leaves flying. "_That's_ the only reason to keep me around?"

"What other reason would I have?"

With a shrug, a snort, and a crick of her head, Yang's eyes flashed, followed by the rest of her as she shifted down into a form that was less likely to cause heart attacks to any elderly she might pass. Heart attacks from _panic,_ anyway. Weiss had a feeling there were a few older gentlemen who might not survive the sight of the more-or-less humanoid blonde.

"Ahem," Weiss coughed, pointedly looking up towards the impossibly blue sky.

It took a moment for Yang to realize what Weiss' newest problem was, the recognition followed by a long-suffering sigh. "Again?"

"Yes, _again_." Still not looking, Weiss pulled an extra set of clothes from the bag and handing them to the transformed dragon.

With a growl, the blonde struggled her way into the tunic, tugging at the folds until they fell somewhat into place and muttering under her breath the entire time. "Stupid humans ... weak excuse for a skin ... couldn't just have scales or fur. No, you all _had_ to be special. Need bloody _drapes_ to make yourself presentable."

"You done?"

"No," Yang grumbled in frustration. "Can you fix this thing, please?"

Turning, Weiss found her struggling to keep the shoulders of the garment in place, the broach that kept the folds in place currently clenched in her teeth. Sighing, Weiss reached over and fixed the _chiton_ before pinning it into some semblance of order.

Satisfied that Yang wasn't about to get them arrested for public indecency, Weiss marched out of the trees, leaving the now-clothed dragon to trail behind in her wake. It was a short walk – the tree line wasn't too far from the road – and soon, the two women had joined the rest of the farmers and travelers making their way into the city.

Thirty meters from the town gate, Yang's stride suddenly lengthened, and within seconds she'd closed the gap between them. Not noticing or ignoring the little start Weiss made at finding her so close, Yang craned her neck down to Weiss' level, her mouth about an inch from the princess' ear.

"Just so you know," she said, sotto voce. "The last human town I spent any time in chased me out after someone found out what I was."

"We're here to shop, not terrorize the countryside," Weiss hissed back. "You'll be fine."

"Oh, I know _I'll _be fine. Thought I'd give you a heads-up before someone shouts 'Grab your torch and pitchforks!'"

Rolling her eyes, Weiss followed the line of people heading through the front gate, nodding politely at the bored guardsman as she passed. The uniformed man barely acknowledged her, looking thoroughly uninterested as he stared down the line of people.

It was a short walk from the gate to the _agora_. Following the flow of the crowd and the slowly growing chatter, Weiss drifted along the well-travelled path, through rows of houses packed along the street. Sun-dried clay walls and thatched roofs gave way to plastered stone, clay tiles marking the wealthier homes deeper inside the city.

A few heads turned as she and Yang passed, the color of Weiss' hair and the other woman's height making them stand out from the rest of the populace. No one seemed to give them more than a second glance, however, and soon they were in the thick of the market, listening to the sound of a hundred conversations as shoppers bartered, bickered, and bought. The air was thick with the odours of spice, meat, and animals, layered over wood fires and unmistakable scent of wine. The agora featured everything a town of middling size would need, either brought and sold by the farmers who dotted the surrounding countryside, or traded for by travelling merchants bringing what cheaper dyes and fabrics the residents could afford. Merchant stalls sat between colonnades, their owners hocking thick wools and dyed linen, while criers announced sudden sales and rushes on various goods, filling the marketplace with a constant chatter that left Weiss shaking her head to clear it. Fired clay pots and jugs lined shelves beneath the shoddy awnings, the potter rubbing shoulders with a wool-seller on one side and a scarred fish-monger on the other.

It was the shop next to the fish-seller that Weiss headed to, nose wrinkling at the smell of mackerel that had definitely sat for too long. Beneath the tattered awning sat sections of wool, several of which the she handed off to Yang before turning to negotiate the price with the bright-eyed shopkeeper. The lengths were heavier – and significantly warmer – than the costumes that made up most of Yang's stash, just the sort of thing she'd need were she on the road for any length of time.

Paying slightly more than she'd hoped, they moved on to the next item on Weiss' list. Six lengths of linen joined the growing stack in Yang's arms, two a pale blue, the others left undyed. Still in the garment shop, Weiss crossed her arms and glared until the blonde rolled her eyes and looked away, giving the Princess some semblance of privacy while she picked out cloth for several breastbands and loincloths that immediately went into the satchel at her side. An _amphoriskoi_ of Mistrali wine joined the steadily growing collection, settled securely between the reams of linen piled in Yang's arms, then placed carefully among the rest of their purchases when Weiss found a small hand-cart for sale.

The sun was high overhead by the time Yan's stomach started growling. Ignoring the idea to pop off for a bit and see what the region's sheep tasted like, Weiss dragged the bronze-skinned blonde towards yet another vendor. Soon the two women found themselves on the outskirts of the _agora_, chewing on _maza_ flatbreads mixed with cheese, Yang eating with considerable gusto for someone who had complained that anything that couldn't run didn't count as a meal.

"So," the dragon said as she chewed, at least showing the decency to cover her mouth as she spoke. "Have you decided where you want to go?"

"Not yet," the princess admitted, biting daintily into her own meal.

"... I hear Vale's nice this time of year."

Weiss shook her head. It had been the first place she'd thought of, and she'd discarded it just as quickly. "Too close. Too likely that someone might recognize me."

"And that's a problem?"

The princess sighed, and pulled her food away from her lips. "Being recognized means questions, namely about how I'm supposed to be dead. I'd rather not deal with my father trying to track me down."

Yang's head bobbed in agreement as she took another bite of her lunch.

"You should have gotten a donkey," she mumbled around a mouthful of dough. "I can't imagine that you're going to carry all this stuff."

"About that" Weiss started, turning to look at Yang. "I-"

A deep, reverberating clang cut her off, sounding again and again. Within moments, citizens and visitors alike poured out of the market, fleeing to the safety of their homes or the relative sanctuary of darkened alleys. Shopkeepers rushed to close their stalls, awnings and stands left abandoned as coin and goods alike were quickly packed away and carted off down the streets.

"What's all that about?" Yang asked, taking another bite of her food.

"The warning bell." Weiss said, meal already abandoned as she rushed to her feet. "We need to go."

* * *

Still chewing, the dragon shrugged and followed, grabbing the handles of their cart and driving it down along the street. The trek back to the gate was faster than Yang remembered, the streets clear but for a few people darting behind their doors. Whatever had caused the watch to ring the alarm had the citizens spooked, shutters slamming shut behind them.

Weiss spoke over her shoulder as they ran, coming around the last turn before the city wall. "If we can make it to the gate before they close-"

Rounding the corner, Yang dug in her feet and brought their cart skidding to a halt, both women looking in dismay at the well-guarded and closing gates. Members of the city watch milled around the top of the wall, bows drawn as they searched for targets, their fellows on the ground moving to brace the gate while another argued with a group of merchants who had apparently shared the same idea as Weiss.

Not slowing in the least, Weiss trudged down towards the still half-open gate, slipping on the stone before quickly regaining her footing. Within seconds, an armored watchman came trotting up to the both of them, ill-fitting helm rattling on his head and spear in-hand.

"Sorry, ladies. We need you to head back up the street. Probably best if you get yourselves somewhere safe."

Azure eyes tracked past the soldier, glaring up at the gate that dared interfere with her plans. "What happened?"

"We've had reports of a beast outside the walls, miss, but-"

"What kind of beast?" Weiss cut him off before he could finish.

"I shouldn't-"

"What kind of beast, soldier?" Finally, Weiss turned to face him, her glare broking no quarter. The man's spine straightened into military precision, set off either by her tone or the imperious scowl.

"A dragon, ma'am."

Yang could barely keep from laughing, watching the obviously green recruit badgered into submission by the diminutive princess. Either Weiss' upbringing or her general personality gave a particularly regal tilt to her chin, her tone making it painfully obvious that she expected an answer and that he _was_ going to give her one.

"I don't see any sign of a dragon."

"No, ma'am, but a few farmers saw something in the air this morning, and one of our scouts found signs of it in the forest."

Yang fought to keep from wincing. She _should _have been more careful, even if the odds of anyone checking the woods had been slim to none. Still, it wouldn't be _too_ much of a problem, so long as they didn't put two and two together and realize that the dragon's tracks only went so far before inexplicably changing to those of a woman.

Oblivious to her reaction, Weiss pressed on, the watchman actually retreating as she stepped forward. "And your best strategy for countering a _flying_ monster was to close a gate? Not one of you stopped to think that it could just fly over?"

"... it's standard procedure."

"How is that an excuse for it being a poor idea?" Flummoxed by the petite woman berating him, the soldier mouthed speechlessly, drawing an eye roll from the princess before she marched through the closing gates, Yang hot on her heels. Seeing a chance to get out of the city, the merchant caravan poured out of the city after them, the watchmen seemingly far more interested in closing the city than ensuring the safety of anyone foolhardy enough to walk out after a dragon sighting.

Caught at the head of the procession, Weiss led them both over to the side of the road, watching as the faster-moving merchants passed, covered carts still laden with good pulled by increasingly obstinate mules. The leader smiled as he passed, bobbing his head at the young woman who had managed to badger her way past the town watch, before leading the cart drivers who looked enough like him to be his brothers off towards the horizon, the bright-eyed faces of two young boys staring out the back at the two women.

"We got lucky," Weiss said as soon as they were out of earshot, moving over to help Yang with their own small pushcart. "If they'd noticed our tracks from the forest-"

"They might have realized that the big bad dragon had already waltzed into their city," Yang finished, a rueful grin creeping across her face. "It would have been fine. At worst, I'd just transform, grab all this junk, and carry you off before they stopped gaping."

The princess snorted, amused at the blatant egotism. They continued on, pushing the cart along until the dusty road sloped and turned, coming around a copse of trees and taking them out of sight from the wall city. As soon as they were reasonably hidden, Weiss ground to a halt, lowering the back end of the cart to the ground and leaning against the chipped wood.

"Sorry you couldn't get something to help you pull this stuff," Yang said, following her example and resting her tired feet. "I'll fly you to another town, see if we can get what you need there."

"Actually," Weiss spoke, looking down at her hands. "Yang, I ... I don't know where to go. This whole day, I've been trying to think of _some_ place to run to, some city or town where no one will recognize me, a place to start over, but ..."

Yang watched as the white-haired girl stared down into the dirt, shoulders slumped forward as she curled in on herself.

"If you want," she started, reaching out and giving the shorter woman an unsure pat on the shoulder that mirrored the one Weiss had given her the day before. This whole 'human comforting' ritual was new to her, but if the princess had thought it appropriate to give to a downcast dragon, it should have the desired effect on the other girl. "I can just fly north. Or out to sea. Give us a day and you'll be far enough away that no one you knew will ever find you."

"Not that, I ... I wanted to ask," Weiss muttered, having trouble forming the words. With a breath, she stood away from the cart, turning to look up at the dragon. Chin raised, she stared right at her, the flush in her cheeks the only remaining sign of her discomfort. "Yang, would you let me stay with you? Just until I figure out what to do."

* * *

It was a long moment before Yang answered, knots twisting and turning in Weiss' stomach as she waited.

"If that's what you want," the dragon said eventually, biting at the inside of her cheek as she paused. "Then, I'm fine with it."

"You're sure?"

"I mean, it's a cave, so it's not up to royal standards, and we'll have to figure out a way to get you food, since I can't see you eating sheep raw, but ..." Yang shrugged and rubbed at the back of her neck. Rather than looking reluctant, Weiss almost thought she saw a spark of _something_ at the thought. Eagerness? Excitement?

"I'd be okay with having a house guest for a bit."

Relief washed over her, and she moved back to sit against the cart, staring off into the sky and waiting for her heart to stop pounding.

"This is the part where you want me to carry all this stuff home for you, isn't it?" the dragon asked, her voice wry, a smile teasing at her lips.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

With a snort, Yang reached down and peeled the tunic off her in one quick motion, struggling to get it over her head and freeing the mass of blonde tresses that flowed off her back. This time, the princess hadn't thought to look away, and found herself caught off-guard as the blonde suddenly bared herself before her. Feeling her face growing hot, she busied herself with something in the cart, trying her best not to look distracted as she took the clothes Yang passed her.

It was early evening by the time they made it back to the cave, delayed by the need to avoid the caravan heading back down the road, and Yang's attempt to avoid being seen by anyone _else_ on their way back to her home. Weiss stayed pressed against her back the entire ride, her recent purchases clutched tightly between Yang's forelegs.

When they landed, the sun had just started to set, brilliant orange radiating out across the horizon and dueling with the blue expanse of the sky. In the dimming light, Weiss hopped off the dragon's back, finding the shift from flying to standing considerably easier than her previous attempts. _I suppose I am getting used to it, _she thought, untying her satchel from Yang's back and stepping towards the cave mouth.

Familiar by now with the twists and turns of the tunnels, Weiss led the way back towards the main cave, dropping her bag near the fire pit and sinking onto her knees. Sweeping more of her hoard to one side, Yang plunked the cart nearby, pushing a small chest behind one of its wheels. Satisfied that it wasn't going to roll off down the cave, the dragon gripped several of the logs she'd set aside, dropping them in the stone-ringed pit and setting them aflame with a quick puff of her breath. Weiss moved closer to the flames as Yang settled down on the other side, smoke trailing up and out towards the cave entrance.

"Aren't you going to change back?" Weiss asked, staring across the flames at the supine dragon, currently stretching as she tried to relieve some of the tension from flying for hours with the cart's burden in her arms.

"Well, this is my home," Yang quipped, rolling over onto her stomach and stretching her wings across the floor. "There's not really a need to."

"... please?"

The lilac-eyed face pulled itself off the ground, cocking to the side to stare at her, shadows flickering across her snout in the fire-light. "Is _this_ that much of a problem for you?" she asked, one foreleg gesturing vaguely at her scaled body.

"No," Weiss replied instantly, somewhat shocked at how quickly the denial had come, equally surprised to find that she actually meant it. Deciding to figure out exactly what _that _meant at a much later date, she cleared her throat. "I mean ... I want to ask you something and it would be easier if you were my size."

Giving her sideways shrug, Yang blinked, her scales and wings fading as she shifted down into the form of a young woman, looking resigned as she pulled the nearest length of cloth from a chest and wrapped it around her shoulders like a blanket.

"So, what is it?"

Weiss didn't answer at first, rising to her feet and making her way around the ring to where Yang sat, feet tucked up under her knees. Smoothing her skirts, she sat down beside the other woman, pulling the length of her hair over one shoulder before turning to answer.

"Just ... I realized that I had been somewhat rude earlier and I wanted to apologize." Determined to speak despite the minor injury to her pride, Weiss locked eyes with the other woman, wanting her to see her sincerity. "Thank you for saving me, Yang."

The dragon sniffed, but Weiss caught the edge of a smile flickering across her mouth. "It's okay. It's kinda my fault you were there in the first place."

"Thank you for that _wonderful_ reminder," Weiss drawled, drawing a short bark of laughter from the girl seated beside her. Leaning over, she placed her head against Yang's shoulder, feeling the dragon's impossible warmth through the thin protection of her more-or-less human skin. "Yang, I would rather not be sacrificed again."

The dragon nodded, but didn't pull away, apparently content to let Weiss rest against her. "Fair enough. I was planning to move on anyway. Figured if I stuck around, they might try to kill some other innocent woman that I'd have to rescue."

"You're not listening." Reaching up, Weiss took hold of the taller woman's chin, tugging gently until the dragon turned to look at her. "I don't want to be sacrificed again. You said you had ... a way to prevent that."

The dragon blinked for several seconds before recognition dawned on her features. Weiss took solace at the sight of the dragon's face going red, glad that she wasn't the only one completely embarrassed.

"You're sure?"

"I'm not repeating myself." Pulling the dragon down to her, Weiss pressed her lips against Yang's. The kiss was short and chaste, a brief moment before she pulled away.

It took a second for Yang to open her eyes, blinking as they adjusted. "Just wanted to know you meant it," she said, clearing her throat as her voice tried to crack. "I was mostly teasing when I offered, so I didn-"

Weiss cut her off with another kiss, pressed against the soft expanse of her cheek. "I'm not teasing." She kissed the dragon again, her hand wandering up to stroke through golden tresses, reveling in the inhuman warmth of her skin before the taller woman pulled away.

"One last time, you're absolutely sure about this?" Yang asked, hands clenched as she fought to keep them at her sides. "I don't want you to think I expected anything by letting you stay he-"

"Yang, I'm doing this because I want to." Weiss paused for a moment before deciding to be completely honest. "... maybe a little to get back at my father, but this is something I want."

"You know," Yang grinned, blonde brows waggling suggestively as she relaxed, hands winding around the princess' waist. "It'd serve him right. He did leave you to get eaten out by a dragon after all."

"_Eaten_ by a dragon, you oaf."

"Maybe, but I think I like my idea better."

* * *

"Was that good for you, Princess?"

"... I'm not really a princess anymore," Weiss said breathlessly, ignoring the horribly inappropriate question as Yang snuggled up against her.

"Well, I'd pick some other pet name, but it took you _so_ long to accept I wasn't gonna eat you ..."

"Shut up, Dragon."

"Mmhm," Yang purred, infuriating grin still plastered to her face, and pulled her closer. "Make me, Princess."

* * *

**Again, sorry for the delay. Next chapter should be back on the Thursday afternoon schedule.**

**Glossary:**

_**Agora**_** – a town square-like section. Sometimes used as a marketplace**

_**Amphoriskoi**_**: a small **_**amphora**_**, or jug**

_**Maza**_**: a type of food made with coarse barley flour, often cooked into flatbreads **

**Chapter 5 Preview:**

_**A branch snapped, and Weiss spun, hand already on the blade at her side and wishing that she'd thought to ask Yang if she had a bow. It was probably a deer – which would have been a welcome addition to the dwindling supply of food she'd **__**bought – but she'd heard of wild boar living near the mountains, vicious creatures with nearly foot-long tusks that were more than capable, and usually quite willing, to skewer anyone and anything that annoyed them.**_

_**A second cracking footstep echoed through the glade, and Weiss turned to find a towheaded man pushing his way through the branches. Looking up, his eyes widened with shock at the white-haired figure, sword held at her side, clothes drying on the line behind her.**_

"_**By the gods. Weiss?"**_

**Please review – it's been great getting to hear people's reactions so far, and everything from criticism to a short, quick comment about whether you liked it or not is appreciated.**


	5. Heroism

**Heroism - Redux**

The next few days passed in relative peace and quiet, broken only when Yang's teasing provoked the odd shriek of rage, the shouts echoing softly into the surrounding forest. Their days were spent organizing and clearing away enough treasure to actually sleep in peace, Yang grumbling while Weiss pointed out that the dragon would never be able to actually _find_ anything with her hoard this scattered. Reluctantly, the dragon agreed, and by the second day, the two had assigned various tunnels and sections to her collection. The weapons tunnel turned out to be her favorite, repaired and reassembled racks of spears and swords resting against the wall, bronze and iron glinting in the torchlight. Clothes were gathered, sorted and placed in cabinets and chests cannibalized from the rest of her trove, flags and pennants now covering the walls of her new ersatz trophy room. The coins were a lost cause, far too many to count and sort with any accuracy, ending up swept deeper and deeper into the cave as they worked their way through her hoard.

What time wasn't spent arguing with Yang about why they couldn't put her stash of oils next to a lit torch, was consumed by thoughts of _where_? Where could she go, what city was truly beyond the reach of her father? Vale was too close, Mistral too well-known. Yang tried to help, but what names she remembered belonged to places Weiss had never heard of. Everyday they would set aside possibility after possibility, until finally both women gave up, accepting another day lost to her indecisiveness.

Days quickly turned into a week, spent in the dragon's company. From what Weiss could tell, Yang seemed perfectly content with having a houseguest, and even more content to share her bed with the princess – a situation that Weiss tolerated _only_ due to the dragon having just the one bed. Yang offered to fly her to a market, find a place where they could buy another, but for some reason, Weiss never made it a priority. One week turned to two, then three, and the two women settled into something resembling a 'normal' routine, with Yang taking off to hunt every few days, leaving the princess to her own devices. She'd gone along the first few times, but the amount of effort that went into feeding a creature three to four times the size of any native animals was astonishing.

_And boring,_ she'd thought after their last trip. Hunting had never been her forte.

Which was how daylight found Weiss outside the entrance to the dragon's cave, taking a moment to enjoy the morning air. Pine needles rustled as the wind blew in off the coast, carrying with it the scent of salt and brine. Despite having spent so much time near the sea, Weiss still found it refreshing – the clean, cold air around Yang's sanctuary could not have been more different from the thick, smoke-filled, perfume-laden palace.

That hardly made it the ideal vacation spot. Warm and cozy and full of treasure it might be, but Yang's cave was hardly equipped for basic human necessities. The entire concept of a latrine was lost on the creature, and it took a good ten minutes before she finally understood what Weiss was very delicately trying to say. Then there was the issue of explaining that no, Weiss could not just up and fly down to the sea whenever she needed to relieve herself.

Then there was the isolation. The nearest human city was several hours away on dragonback, and while several islands were closer, Weiss had pointed out that a dragon flying in over the water would be even more obvious than one skimming the ground. She supposed there was a silver lining to the solitude – namely, that it should making it nearly impossible for her father or his men to find her. On the other hand, it meant hours of travel for mere necessities, and each trip risked discovery and widespread panic if Yang was spotted. Fortunately, she was able to scrounge quite a bit from the various items in Yang's collection. A mostly-undamaged chest now sat by the cleared section of floor, Weiss' new clothes folded neatly inside. A chipped clay stove that had sat abandoned beneath a set of spears now waited nearby. Several bags of flour leaned against the stove, ready for whenever Weiss decided that wild game for the fourth day in a row was too much.

At least water wasn't a problem. A deep reservoir sat in the lower tunnels, filled with water from an underground stream that tricked down to the sea. With a few boulders, draconic aid, and a bit of very careful magic, the two women managed to turn it into a set of layered pools, with the clean upper pool dedicated to drinking, any excess water bleeding off into the lower one for washing and bathing. Yang seemed to find the construction work rather fun, and was only too happy to transform and slip into the deeper pool, grinning and waving for the princess to join her. Weiss, for her part, had no complaints about the ease by which a dragon could turn a pool of frigid water into a steam bath.

Unfortunately, dark caves and treasure troves were hardly the best environment for drying clothes. The clearing outside the cave, however, was sparse and open. Several low-hanging branches made excellent places for a washing line, the sun peeking over the trees to leave the glade bright with sunlight.

Halfway done with her task, washing-lines pulled taught by their burden, Weiss sat on a nearby stone, feeling the light warm her skin. Eyes closed, she listened, taking the brief moment of solitude to completely relax. Birds chirped in the treetops, the pines whispering beneath them as the wind blew their secrets to her. There was something ... pure about it, so calming and warm...

A branch snapped, and Weiss spun, hand already on the blade at her side and wishing that she'd thought to borrow a bow. It was probably a deer – which would have been a welcome addition to the dwindling supply of food – but she'd heard of wild boar living near the mountains, vicious creatures with nearly foot-long tusks that were more than capable, and usually quite willing, to skewer anyone and anything that annoyed them. Clever and mean, they'd been responsible for injuring more than a few hunters from her town; she had no desire to end up like them.

A second cracking footstep echoed through the glade, and Weiss turned, sword clearing her sheath with one quick pull, ready to sink as deep into the porcine beast as possible. To her surprise, a towheaded man pushed his way blindly through the branches, leaves and twigs scattered in his hair, his tunic muddy and torn where thorns had ripped it. Looking up, his eyes widened with shock at the white-haired figure, sword held ready at her side, clothes drying on the line behind her.

"By the gods. Weiss?"

* * *

Jaune's stomach grumbled for what had to be the twentieth time that day. Not that it was that uncommon. A man on a journey had to live off the land, after all. Of course, that worked better when there was a land to live off of. The area he'd been sent to search was apparently devoid of animals; the biggest creatures he'd seen in the past four days had been the insects perpetually biting at his neck and arms. As for his stomach, it had been a good three days since his last _true _meal, or at least one that didn't consist of scavenged berries that he figured were mostly harmless. At least he knew the red ones by sight now.

Then again, none of it mattered. Not the insects, not the lack of food, not the aches and pains running from his legs to his feet from walking for days on end. All that mattered was the chance, the slimmest chance, that _she_ might still be alive. And it was a slim chance, slim enough that Lord Schnee had only bothered to send a few guards after the trail that had quite literally wandered across their path.

A merchant caravan had brought word that a city to the north had been attacked by a dragon, the description matching the one that had haunted Atlas for so long, down to the malevolent black eyes and the tusks jutting forward from its mouth. It was a huge, vicious monster, the same one that had tried to devour the town's villagers before making off with the Princess, who had chosen to sacrifice herself so that they all could live. It was the kind of bravery Jaune wished he could live up to, an honor he wanted for himself, and the real reason why he'd agreed to comb through the woods while the rest of the search party headed farther north.

Ignoring his body's complaints, he pushed himself up the hill, one foot landing heavily in front of the other, makeshift walking stick in hand. He had just crested the ridge of the hill when something flashed, some brief spec of motion that caught his eye.

Movement in the trees. Jaune froze, his heart pounding as he tried to control his breathing. The biggest game he'd seen in days was a rabbit and that had been before he neared the foot of the mountain, but there were boar that lived in these hills. They were vile creatures; he'd seen the shape some of the hunters had returned in after they ran into one of those. He had no interest in copying them, especially not with just his sword for a weapon. It was more than enough for the average bandit, but a good spear was the weapon for boar hunting, and he didn't particularly want to skewer the pig only to get speared by one of its tusks in return.

No snorting or rustling came, and Jaune eased his foot forward, remembering everything his captain had taught him about moving quietly in the woods.

He immediately snapped a twig.

The cracking wood was impossibly loud, echoing in the otherwise silent grove. Wincing, he drew in on himself, waiting for snorting breaths and pounding hoofs had would come right before the boar charged him. Seconds passed, and nothing came charging for him. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Jaune wiped the sweat from his brow, thanking the gods for whatever good fortune they'd spared him. Careful, he started to head back the way he'd come, deciding to circle around and come at the mountainside from another, less-populated angle.

Another twig snapped beneath his foot.

The sound of metal scraping on leather filled the air, and Jaune whirled, hand already on his sword. _Bandits, _he thought, and swallowed. That was why he hadn't seen much game, why this whole area seemed deserted, even by middle-of-the-woods standards. Too few animals scampered in the brush, too few birds sang. If a group of ruffians had set up their camp here, it would all make sense. In fact, it was probably the only answer.

Ready and waiting for the attack, he shrunk closer to the ground, trying to make less of a target of himself, should someone start firing arrows into the trees. He just needed to find ... _there_! A clearing sat off to one side, barely visible through the crush of trees surrounding it. A white-haired figure stood facing into the woods, blade in head as she waited for him to ...

Wait. _She?_

Struggling to his feet, Jaune charged forward, and promptly tripped over an exposed root. Catching himself, he pushed off the ground and kept moving, darting between the trees, until he stepped into the clearing, sunlight blasting him in the face. Blinking his eyes to adjust, he gazed, slack-jawed at the sight before him, the woman he'd thought he'd never see again.

"By the gods. Weiss?"

* * *

"But ... you're _dead._" he managed, looking thoroughly dumbfounded.

"Nothing ever escapes you, Jaune," the Princess drawled, resisting the urge to curse. Of all the people to find her, it _would_ be him. The most junior of her father' guardsmen, the blonde had immediately attached himself to the younger princess' retinue, and despite Weiss objections, insisted on 'protecting' her whenever possible.

_It could be worse,_ she decided. For all she disliked him, better to be found by an ineffective guard than a capable one. _At least it should be easy to make _him_ leave. _Not bothering to so much as look in his direction, the princess turned back to her washing, flicking the last of sheet up and over the line. "Now if you're quite done, I'm in the middle of something."

Jaw still slack, he stared openly, glancing from her to the washing hung around the clearing. "You're ... doing laundry."

"Ever the observant," she drawled, twitching the length of linen until both sides of the drying bedsheet matched. "Now, please do me a favor, and leave."

"_Why_ are you doing laundry?" he asked, eyes darting down as one pale eyebrow raised, objecting to the lack of a title. "Princess," he added belatedly, trying for some semblance of military discipline.

"Because I like having clean clothes," Weiss sighed, laying her basket down by the stone she had been resting on. "I'll understand if that's a novel concept to you, but since there aren't any servants out here, I'm afraid I have to do it myself."

"No, I ..." Jaune's mouth worked for a second, seeming completely baffled as the gears in his head tried to force comprehension into him. "How are you not dead?"

"Well, this big dragon swooped down and carried me off. You should know, half the town saw it arrive."

Jaune stiffened at the reminder, looking increasingly uncomfortable as he stared into the dirt. "Are you alright? Did it hurt you?"

"_She_," Weiss corrected, unable to keep the bite out of her voice. "Hasn't tried to sacrifice me. I know it's a fairly low standard, but for _some_ reason people have trouble with it."

The blond winced at that, guilt flickering across his face as his sword-arm loosened. "You have to know I didn't want that."

"I don't 'have' to know anything. Fortunately for the both of us, I'm apparently safer here than I was at the palace. Now, if you would please leave, I have a few more things to dry."

"But-" The word was spoken to thin air as Weiss turned away, only to find herself stopped as the young man grabbed her sleeve. "Weiss, you _have _to come back with me. Everyone will be _ecstatic_ to see that you're alive. You can't imagine how happy your father will be, your sisters-"

"Jaune," the princess cut him off, turning to stare imperiously back at the scruffy guardsman. "I'll speak very slowly, just to make sure you can understand. _I am fine._ In fact, I'm relatively happy. Don't ruin it. Go home, tell no one you saw me, and just let everyone get on with their lives."

* * *

She couldn't mean that. She couldn't. It didn't make any sense - _none _of this made any sense. The Princess shouldn't even be _alive,_ much less doing a servant's work in the middle of the woods. Not that it wasn't a good thing – he was very glad to see her alive and ... _mostly_ well – but it wasn't _right_.

Something was very wrong.

Blue eyes blinked and the guardsman shook his head, his voice growing softer. "Princess, listen to me. Whatever ... _happened_ to you, you're not thinking clearly."

"I said I'm fin-"

"No, you're not," he said over her, leaning down to look back and forth between her eyes. Her gaze still seemed sharp, although that might have just been the scowl she normally wore. "You're in the middle of a forest, outside a monster's cave, hanging sheets to dry. That's ... it's not normal. I think ... maybe it did something to your head. Maybe magic."

Yeah. That made sense, now that he thought about it. If the dragon hadn't eaten her, it had to have kept her around for a reason. Laundry, apparently.

Okay, so it wasn't a perfect theory. Still, it made more sense than the alternative. If the monster had some fort of magical pull, some way to put its victims under its thrall, that would explain why the Princess seemed so strange, why she was so reluctant to return home. _She might not even know it's affecting her, _he thought, the horror of it all chilling him to the bone. _Or worse, she _does, _but whatever spell it put on her keeps her from being able to talk about it. _

Either way, the best thing for it was to get her as far away from here as possible. Jaune wasn't an expert on magic or monsters, by any means, but he knew animals, and eventually, the dragon would come back. The only way he'd be able to get her to safety was if they were long gone by the time it arrived.

* * *

His voice was still softer than normal, more careful, as if talking to a child, or ... _Someone insane,_ she realized. _Son of a bitch. _Bile riled in her stomach at the thought, furious at the idea of him 'handling' her.

"Let. Go," she snapped, glaring daggers into the blonde until his hand released her arm. Weiss sighed as Jaune stepped back, concern still plastered on his face.

"Jaune, the dragon didn't _do _anything to me," she said, ignoring the part of her brain that quite happily pointed out exactly what Yang _had_ done to her. "_She_ saw what everyone was trying to do. She didn't _want_ a sacrifice, so she scared them off."

"Okay," he said, nodding and smiling and still using that soft, inoffensive, gentle tone. "Look, Weiss, it's gonna be okay, just com-"

"For the love of-" she growled, swatting away Jaune's hands as he tried to block the light, looking to see if her eyes dilated. "Dammit Jaune, stop. I don't have a concussion. There's no _magic_. She saved me, plain and simple. Now piss off."

Reaching out, he tugged on her sleeve as he would a child, trying to get her to follow him. "Look, I'll get you home. We'll find someone who can help yo-."

Knocking his hand aside, Weiss stepped back, hand dropping to the hilt at her side. In an instant, Jaune froze, eyes locked on the sheathed weapon.

"I'm not going back to the town of people who tried to kill me," Weiss said, forcing her voice into her calmest, most even tone. "I think that's fairly reasonable. That leaves you with two choices: either you leave, go home, and keep your mouth shut, or you keep trying to take me back and I have to use this."

Jaune took a careful step back, hands raised to the sides of his head. "Weiss, don't make me fight you. You're not yourself, and I don't want to have to hurt you."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "No. You don't want to have to fight me, because you'll lose. I've seen the guards run their drills, and I'm fairly sure the kitchen staff armed with rolling pins make better fighters than you."

The guard's cheeks flushed, one hand slipping slowly towards his own weapon. "Weiss, please. Just let me-"

His blade never even cleared its sheath. Within seconds, Weiss was on him, palm slamming into his hilt and trapping it in place. One knee came up, snapping out and catching him in the side, the point of her knee nestled right between a set of ribs. She followed through, using her momentum to knock the blonde into the dirt before her own blade cleared its scabbard and pressed against his throat.

"Now, let me be excruciatingly clear," she said, just loud enough for him to hear. "You're going to go back to Atlas. You're going to tell everyone that your search was a complete waste of time, and you and everyone else in that damn town are going to leave me alone." Blade still resting against his pulse, she stepped back, putting some distance between them before letting him up. "Do we understand each other, or do we need to try this again?"

"Understood," Jaune croaked, cross-eyed as he stared at the weapon.

Sighing, Weiss stepped back, giving him as much room as she could before turning back into the cave. Better to just give him some time, let him nurse the wound to his pride before he returned. She could always finish hanging the clothes once he'd left, and-

An explosion of pain rocked her head, bursting out from the back of her skull. With a cry of pain, Weiss went down, hands and knees slamming into the ground as the world swam before her. Her hand was still gripped tight around the hilt of her blade, years of practicing in secret paying off as she tried to turn.

Something slammed into her hand, her fingers going numb as whatever it was hit her again. Metal scraped on stone as the sword flew out of her reach and clattered against the tunnel wall. Snarling, she whirled, only to see Jaune armed with another rock, hefting it in his hand as he looked down at her sideways.

_That can't be right ..._ Weiss realized she was on her side, and managed to roll onto her side before another the rock crashed into the ground. The movement made her head throb in agony, her vision swimming. One hand clutched to her temple, she lashed out with her leg, catching Jaune in the knee and hearing a very satisfying scream. Scrambling on the hard stone, she stumbled to her feet, reaching for the blade lying against the wall.

Hands closed around her foot, yanking her off-balance and knocking her down onto the ground. The wind rushed out of her, leaving the princess gasping on the ground, her head pounding. Looking up, she found Jaune, limping towards her, rock raised to strike.

"I promise," he panted, his voice still calm despite the pain etched in his face. "This is for your own good."

Then the rock came down, and darkness claimed her.

* * *

**Bit of a short chapter, but that was a good place to break. Looking forward to posting the next update on Thursday. No preview this time, since everything would be spoiler-y.**

**Please review if you can find the time! The little alerts I get on my phone, and getting to read what people thought, really make my day.**


	6. Capture

**Capture**

When she woke, the first thing she noticed was the pain. The ache in her head was the worst, a deep throbbing that sat behind her right ear and spread until she thought her skull might split open. Nothing seemed broken, even though the rest of her felt like she'd been hit by a cart. Her stomach riled in time with the pulsing in her head, and her arms and shoulders felt stiff and sore – something she put down as a symptom of the head trauma. At least, until she tried to move, to press a hand to her skull and relieve some of the pressure. Her arms jerked, then stayed still, held firmly in place by something that bound her wrists to the sides of the bed.

Weiss risked opening her eyes, and winced as the light brought another wave of pain crashing through her skull. Fighting a groan, she waited for the pain to dull before opening her eyes into narrowed slits. Her eyes adjusted after a moment and, staring out from beneath lowered lashes, she managed to duck her head far enough down to look at her hands. Short lengths of rope wrapped around her wrists, digging into her skin as she tried to wriggle free. The bonds were tight, not enough to cause her pain, but enough to make escape unlikely.

_Jaune_, she cursed, briefly indulging in the image of herself braining the blonde idiot with his own stupid, bloody rock. Why couldn't he have listened to her, have just left her alone?

She thought about turning her head to look about the room, to figure out exactly where she was, before deciding against it. The pounding in her skull got worse every time she moved her head. Right now, the last thing she needed was to pass out again. She settled for relaxing back on the pillow and staring up at what little she could see. Not that it helped. A rough, white-painted ceiling hung above her, brightly lit by the sun that streamed in from some unseen window off to the side. It looked just like so many other rooms, so many other buildings, built to absorb as little heat as possible during the day. She smelled flowers – someone must have picked fresh ones and placed them just out of her sight. _Or my head is much worse off than I thought._

She was just about to force herself to turn, to make sure the smell wasn't some sign of permanent damage, when she saw the small mark etched into the wall, right at the height of the bed. It was a peculiar little mark, some misshapen bird carved by a child's unsteady hand. Cursing under her breath, she ignored the jolt of pain and rolled her head to the side, already knowing what she would find.

The room was hardly small, but the sparse décor made it seem even larger. A long couch sat beneath the window, wooden shutters left open to the breeze. The opening looked out over the gardens below, the view only slightly ruined by a statue someone had decided to place right below the sill. A light breeze trickled in, stirring the air and the incense winding up from the clay burner in the corner, filling the room with its sweet, woody scent. The flowers she'd smelled sat by her bedside, next to a small amphora of what she hoped was water. A wooden loom sat in the corner, the piece hanging on it left half-finished, next to a small chest that Weiss knew held wool and thread and the odd spare spindle.

The princess knew the room like the back of her hand. She _should_, considering that she'd spent the better part of her life in these rooms and the halls beyond. She was home, in her chambers at the royal palace. A shiver ran up her spine at the thought. Her already uneasy stomach rolled, and Weiss doubted it had anything to do with her head.

Using the rope ties for support, she hauled herself upright. Her head throbbed, and she closed her eyes tight against the pain as she tried to keep her stomach from heaving. She was still waiting for the worst to fade when the sound of voices slipped beneath the crack of the door. It was faint, indistinct, growing clearer as the speakers neared. For a second, she thought about slumping back on the bed, feigning unconsciousness or sleep until they left. Then she could try to slip the knots – maybe even clamber down the statue if she had to. So long as she didn't pass out on the way down, she'd have at least something of a head start before the guards realized she was missing.

Weiss shook her head, sitting as straight as her pounding head allowed and flicking her hair back behind her shoulders. If she was going to deal them, it would be on _her _terms, not theirs. Readying herself as best she could, she watched the door, listening to the snippets of conversation that made it through the door.

"… as the … ock … ead tru … ssary?"

"Sir, she wa … strangely. I don't kno … dragon did to her, but she … with it, wanted to _stay_ with it."

" … tay with it?"

"Yes, ... ord. I think … magic. Some sor … thrall."

"Unfortunate. Still, … have you to thank … she's here now, and safe."

'_Safe.' _Weiss thought with a mocking snort, immediately regretting it as her head swam._ Right. Never been 'safer' than inside a house with the people who tried to kill me._

The door opened with a creak and three figures stepped into the room. The first was a small woman Weiss recognized as a local healer, a nurse who sometimes worked for her father. Her back was bent with age, her wizened face doing nothing to hide the strength still left in her shriveled fingers. She moved briskly through the room, wet washcloth already in-hand, fussing over the princess and fixing the bandage tied around her head.

All of this went unnoticed as the second newcomer entered the room, robes billowing around his shoulders. Her father, resplendent in his robes of office, loomed over the slumped blond soldier at his side. Stormy eyes sat beneath equally dark brows, his dark hair cut close to his head and going gray at the temples. His stern face was even sharper next to Jaune's sheepish expression. Every other step Jaune took favored the leg she'd injured, giving him a noticeable limp that filled her with vindictive pleasure.

_Good to know I got _some _retribution, at least,_ she thought, schooling her features and twitching away from the fussing nurse.

"I'm so sorry I had to do that," Jaune spoke first, eyes flicking up to the bandage around her head, face twisted with guilt. "Does it hurt?"

Weiss met his eyes with a glare that could split stone. "Untie me. I will be _glad_ to show you."

"One might expect you to be more grateful," her father said, one hand coming down to clasp Jaune on the shoulder. "This young man probably saved your life when he carried you back to town."

"He _endangered_ my life when he decided to brain me with a rock. Clearly his decision-making skills need some adjustment." Turning away from the injured guardsman, Weiss looked up at her father. "How long was I out?"

"Almost a day." Waving the nurse away, Schnee pulled a chair from its place by the wall and settled it by her bedside. Looking displeased at being taken from her charge, the old woman retreated back to the door, out of the way, but within reach should she be needed. "Arc said you were … confused. Disoriented. According to him, you attacked when he tried to bring you home."

"Arc says many things," Weiss said through her teeth. "I vaguely remember 'I don't want to hurt you,' and we all see how _that _turned out."

"You didn't give me a choice." Jaune slumped awkwardly onto the cushions of the lounge, right leg held out before him.

"I gave you every choice," she snarled. "_You _were the one who decided to attack me from behind like a coward."

"That's enough," Schnee said, his eyes cold, and Jaune's retort died in his throat. "I am not here to listen to you bicker. Weiss, none of us expected to see you alive. When the dragon took you-"

"When you chained me on a rock to die, you mean."

"Be quiet," he said, his voice low and soft.

Weiss swallowed, and for an instant she felt like a child again, small and helpless before the looming figure of her father. There was a brief flash of guilt – the feeling that she'd done something wrong, even though she hadn't. Then the anger flooded back in, strengthened by the ache in her head and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Still, she held her tongue. It took effort, but she managed it. Antagonizing him wouldn't help her situation. Not yet, anyway.

Satisfied that she was cowed enough to prevent another outburst, he continued. "When the dragon took you, we all expected the worst. Arc was the only one who insisted we look for you, to at least find the dragon's cave, keep it from attacking anyone else."

"She's not _going_ to attack anyone else." Weiss sighed, one hand pulling absently at the ropes. "She doesn't mean you any harm. All she's done is harass some pirates. She never went after innocent people."

"You forget the attack on our city," Lord Schnee said, his measured tone reminding Weiss of an adult speaking to a particularly slow child. "It was a miracle our people made it behind the wall when it took you."

"No, they're alive because she didn't _want_ to hurt them_._ The only person who was in _any_ danger was me, from the mob that _you _let carry me off."

He shook his head. "Weiss, our people feared for their lives. They believed your sacrifice was the only way to appease whichever god had sent the creature."

"Wonderful. They're stupid as well as homicidal," Weiss said, putting as much sarcasm as she could into every word. "That's a great comfort, really. But it doesn't change the fact that she's not a threat to you."

"You would really trust a monster over your own people?" her father asked, his voice low. "Your family?"

"We keep coming back to this. My 'family' tried _to have me killed_. That tends to put some things in perspective."

"Weiss!" Jaune spoke up, glancing back and forth between the two nobles. "You know he only-"

A sideways glance from Lord Schnee brought Jaune stuttering to a halt, his objections dying in his throat. The guardsman's teeth clicked as his jaw snapped shut, glancing down as the Lord of Atlas leaned towards his daughter. His voice hadn't changed, but there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Weiss, I gave up my child to save our people. Do not suggest that I made that sacrifice lightly."

"Some sacrifice. Last I checked, _you_ weren't the one tied to the rock."

Pain burst in the side of her head, her father's backhanded slab catching her off-guard and twisting her face to the side. Her head throbbed violently, her injuries set off by the sudden blow. She tasted blood. Turning back to her father, her tongue played over her split lip, trying to let the different source of pain ground her as she struggled to focus.

"If I'm not there when Y … when the_ dragon_ gets back, she'll be worried," Weiss said, managing to keep her voice low and calm. "I doubt the 'genius' over there covered his tracks particularly well, which means that in about a day or so, you're going to have a dragon at your gates wondering what you did with her princess."

Turning, she met her father's eyes, ice-blue shards of rage glaring into stormy gray. "If you really care about your people, much less about _me_, you'll let me go."

Her father's gaze was steady as he looked down at her, his face unreadable.

"Arc," he said finally, not bothering to look at the injured soldier. "You were saying you wanted to go back?"

Weiss saw Jaune nod out of the corner of her eye, his face ashen. "Your daughter's right. When it realizes she's gone, there's a good chance it'll attack. Since I _did_ actually cover our tracks, it might think that Weiss just wandered off. If we can catch it while its guard is down-"

"Do it," Schnee said, rising from his chair and dusting his hands. "Bring as many men as we can spare. Collapse the cave. Not even a dragon can survive several tonnes of rock dropped on them."

"You're making a mistake!" Weiss snapped, yanking on the ropes in vain. "She's not dangerous. She didn't do anything to you!"

She might as well have not said anything. Her father didn't even bother to look at her as he waved the nurse into the room.

"In the meantime, give her something to help her sleep," he said, turning back to Jaune. "When you return, we will discuss your reward. By then, hopefully whatever spell it cast over her will wear off."

Before he even left the room, the nurse was already pressing a cup against Weiss' mouth, one hand pushing the princess back onto the bed to try and stop her struggling. Weiss fought and twisted, but with her hands tied, there was little she could do but writhe, knocking her head this way and that and generally making the woman's job as hard as possible. Finally, a hand covered her nose, clamping down until Weiss ran out of breath. Gasping for air, she spluttered as the sickly-sweet liquid was poured past her lips, leaving her coughing and choking.

She wretched, trying to spit it out, only for the woman to clamp her hand down over her mouth, holding it shut until finally she'd swallowed enough of the potion. Within seconds she could feel the foul-tasting drink affecting her. Everything went soft and fuzzy, like a blanket had been pulled down between her and the world. She couldn't muster enough strength to struggle, much less fight the nurse off as she poured more of the sleeping potion down her throat. Then her eyes slid shut and everything went black.

* * *

**Writer's Note: So, a couple of things. One, this now has cover art! Done by the awesome Todd Crevan / Skiretehfox. Go check out their other stuff on tumblr. It's awesome.**

**Two, I'm thinking about moving the post date to Fridays (Freezerburn Fridays and all that). It's easier for me to post earlier on that day and hopefully it'll make posting easier for me.**

**Either way, hope you enjoyed, and please leave a review if you can. Anything's welcome: questions, comments, derogatory remarks – mostly the last one since it'll make me laugh.**


	7. Captivity

**Writer's note: Sorry about the delay. Also, from the comments and reviews asking for Yang to do horribly violent things to Papa Schnee, I would just like to say that y'all are bloodthirsty. It's very heartwarming to know people hate the villain. Also, if you'd like to see the full, larger version of Skiretehfox's cover art for this story, you can find it on my tumblr profile at RedSuitWriter. (Or just search Tumblr for 'redsuitwriter', the story should come up pretty quick)**

* * *

**Captivity**

The next day was a blur, with brief moments of clarity broken by more doses of the foul-tasting liquid. Not that she could be sure. She _hoped _it was just the one day, but between the doses and the refusal by the guards and the nurse to even speak to her, she couldn't be sure. The first thing Weiss could solidly remember was leaning over the edge of the bed, puking her guts out onto the floor. Whichever sleeping draught they'd used, it reacted poorly to Weiss' system, leaving her in an almost constant state of nausea for the good part of a day. At least there was _one_ good side to the whole ordeal: the person who had to clean it all up was the same nurse who'd dosed her.

Once she'd recovered, and the stench of vomit had been washed away and replaced with fresh-cut flowers, Weiss and her captors settled into an uneasy truce. Struggling meant more of the sleeping draught, something neither side particularly wanted anything to do with. So Weiss kept her silence during the occasional visits from a healer, and old man she didn't recognize who came to make sure her head was healing properly. The rest of the time, she was alone, apart from a guard at the door and a nurse who visited three times a day. Tray in-hand, the dour woman would untie one hand long enough for Weiss to try and get some food down while the guard watched like a hawk from the doorway.

After the second day, Weiss was starting to lose her temper. No matter how she looked at it, there wasn't any good way out. There were never less than two people in her room at any one time, so even assuming she managed to overpower the nurse, the guard would still stop her long before she could free herself from the bed. One sleepless night of struggling taught her that the ropes would take far more abuse than she could dish out in a few hours. By the time she'd be able to slip the knots, it would already be well past dawn, and her chances of escape would be slim to none.

By the third day, she was about ready to risk it. The indignity of being tied to her own bed was bad enough, but the sheer monotony of spending every day staring blankly at the ceiling had her ready to commit murder.

Slamming her head angrily back against the pillows, Weiss tried to come up with _some_ way to free herself. It had been far too long since that blond idiot had run off on his moronic hunt for Yang. There was no telling the kind of trouble they could cause if she didn't warn Yang in time. Jaune's life didn't particularly concern her, but her father's men had no idea what they were doing.

_For all I know, Yang's roasted the lot of them. Or ..._

She shook her head and yanked on the ropes again. There wasn't any point in thinking that. This was _Yang_, after all. This was a large, scaled, fire-breathing _dragon._

_She's more than a match for a few soldiers and a puffed-up, cowardly, and entitled little sycophant._ _Even if they are able to do some damage to the cave, Yang has magic. She'll be more than fine._

_Except she can't really do anything other than turn human_, whispered some small, traitorous part of her.

... _shut up._

_It's the only magic she can do off-the-cuff. If they cause a cave-in ..._

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

Planting her feet against the foot of the bed, she pulled on the ropes as hard as she could, her arms straining against the ropes. She wanted free. She wanted to scream, to yell, to slam the damn bed against the wall until the whole bloody contraption shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. The only keeping her from venting her rage was the threat of the noise bringing more guards, and inevitably more of that disgusting potion.

When it was obvious that she wasn't doing anything other than adding new rope-burns to her wrists, Weiss slumped down against the mattress, teeth grinding in frustration.

_She'll be fine,_ she told herself, slamming her head back against the pillow._ She has to be fine. She has to._

A knock came from the door, making Weiss' head jerk to the side as her heart skipped a beat. Had someone heard her struggling?

No. They couldn't have. The nurse and the guards never bothered to knock before. She doubted they'd do it if they thought she was trying to escape. But if it wasn't one of them ...

"Weiss, it's me." The bottom of her stomach dropped as Jaune's voice came through the heavy wooden door.

"The nurse said you were doing better. You mind if I come in?"

She swallowed before answering, her mouth suddenly gone dry. "... I'm not exactly in a position to stop you."

Apparently taking that for a 'yes,' Jaune pushed the door open, nodding to the guard outside. Her stomach turned as he stepped into the light, giving Weiss her first real look at him. A silk tunic far too rich for his blood draped across his chest, bound at his shoulders with golden clasps. His bracers and graves were freshly-polished and gleamed like silver on new, clean leather straps, and a sword with a golden hilt hung off his hip, the large gems embedded in the pommel glinting as they caught the light.

"I see you got your honors," she growled, unable to keep the hostility out of her voice. Her gaze lingered on the sword at his side, remembering the feel of those jewels against her palm. It was the same blade she'd drawn against Yang her first night in the cave. The same flashy, ostentatious, impractical one she'd cast aside.

The mere sight made her want to tear the bastard's throat out.

"Yeah," he blushed and rubbed at the back of his neck, completely oblivious. "Apparently, defeating a dragon is kind of a big deal."

Weiss swallowed. _Defeating? Did he mean ..._

No. It couldn't be. It _had_ been a few days, and _maybe_ that was long enough for them to make it to the cave and back, but Yang wouldn't have gone down that easily.

_Still ... he has her sword_.

Weiss let her gaze slide back to the ceiling. She felt ... empty. Not that it made _any _sense at all. She'd only known Yang for ... what? A week? Maybe two? It shouldn't ... she shouldn't feel ... it was just some stupid dragon, after all. An obnoxious one, too. And argumentative, and rude, and stubborn, and oblivious to the most basic human behavior, especially when it came to anything that might possibly embarrass _her-_

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder, and Weiss fought the urge to cringe away in disgust.

"If it helps," Jaune said, smiling sympathetically. "It died quick. It was ... I dunno. Slinking around, I guess? I think maybe it was sick, or something. Anyway, we waited to make sure it was in the cave, and-"

"Jaune," Weiss cut him off, her voice shaking. "You really want to stop talking now."

His expression changed to worry as he looked down at her, settling into the chair at her side. "It still has a hold over you, doesn't it?"

She shook her head, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "Nothing's wrong with me, Jaune. I just don't want to hear this."

"... sorry." Putting his hands in his lap, he sat back in his chair, adjusting the sword on his hip into a more comfortable position. The movement made the crystals glimmer, and Weiss found herself stuck by an intense desire to bury the damn thing in his chest. Up to that damn, impractical hilt.

"This whole thing must have been pretty traumatic. I don't know what I'd do if there was some monster mucking around inside my hea-"

"Stop. Talking."

"... sorry."

Weiss leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, hoping in vain that if she didn't say anything, he'd get the hint and go away. It didn't work, not that it surprised her. She could still her his breathing, hear the sound of the monster who'd killed her-

'Her' what? She and Yang hadn't even had the time to discuss something so basic as what they meant to each other. 'Friends' was too mundane for everything they'd gone through, what they'd done. They hadn't gotten the chance, and now ... now they never would.

"Is there anything I can do?" Jaune said, his voice breaking through her reverie.

Opening her eyes, Weiss looked over at the boy seated at her side. He looked genuinely concerned, even worried. One of his fingers unconsciously traced a groove in the side of the bed, and guilt flashed across his face at the sight of her reddened skin beneath the ropes.

_The question is, exactly _how_ dumb is he?_

It took her less than a second to decide. Clearing her throat, she forced her voice to remain steady and even. When she spoke, she almost surprised herself – the calm, reasonable tone hardly matched the growing desire to wrap her hands around his bastard neck.

"You could untie me."

Jaune winced at the request. "You know they're for your own safety, right? We didn't want you hurting yourself."

Weiss managed to resist the urge to roll her eyes. The ropes were about as much for her own safety as Jaune was an actual dragon-slayer. _And it isn't me they should be worried about._

"Jaune, I am tired of having to call for a healer just to get some water." She roughed up her voice a little, even gave a slight cough before she cleared her throat again. _No reason to not play for sympathy_. "I'm not going to hurt myself, and even if I wanted to escape, where exactly would I go?"

Weiss watched as he struggled to decide, his mind overtaxed by more thinking than she supposed he normally did in a week. She could almost guess what was going through that thick skull of his. After all, she was just an innocent, misguided princess. What could be the harm?

Finally, he ran an anxious hand through his hair and stood, moving over to the bedside. "... I can probably get away with one, but if I do both, Lord Schnee will kill me."

"Well, one arm is better than none." The princess had to stop herself from smirking. _What a moron._

His dagger made quick work of the ropes around her left hand. Yanking her hand back towards her, Weiss winced, stiff muscles complaining bitterly after being trapped for so long. Flexing her fingers, she pulled herself into a sitting position, her trapped arm jerking against the ropes. But at least now she could sit, and it was nice just to be able to see more than the ceiling and what part of the room she could make out over the side of the bed.

Risking a look around, Weiss stared about the room that had been her prison for the last few days. The shutters to the window were boarded up, locked tight on the off chance she tried to escape. The curtain cords were gone, leaving the cloth to drift freely from the odd breath of air that snuck under the door.

_I'm surprised they didn't try to pad the room while I was out. _

The only other change sat by her bedside, littering across the floor in an ordered mess. It looked like someone had uprooted a small flowerbed and transplanted it into her room. Vase after vase sat along her bedside, filled to the brim with posies and lilies, orchids and poppies. _So that's where the smell was coming from._

"Why are all these here?" she asked. One set would have been enough to cover up any lingering odor. There wasn't a need to turn her bedroom into a garden.

"Gifts," Jaune said, looking sheepish as he stared down at the pile. "A bunch of people feel really bad about what happened with ... you know, the dragon and... everything."

Weiss snorted and looked away. Of course they did. She was sure the good townsfolk were all torn up about having tried to sacrifice her. It had to be so difficult for them to have the young woman they nearly killed living within the city again. And of course, some flowers were meant to make her forget about the small business of their attempted murder.

"Actually," Jaune muttered, pawing through the pile and pulling out a thick, canvas-wrapped package. "This one's from your father."

Before she could say anything, Jaune was already opening it. The thick cloth unfolded easily, leaving the contents open and lying on the bed. Stepping back, Jaune looked over at her face, any subtlety forgotten in his haste to see her reaction. Gritting her teeth, Weiss kept her face as impassive as a statue as stared in horror down at her father's gift.

"What ... what is this?"

"Well, I mean," he fumbled, his goofy grin faltering. "It's supposed to be yours."

Quick as a flash, Weiss' hand whipped out and grabbed Jaune by the front of his tunic. Hauling him forward, she forced the blonde to meet her eyes.

"What the _hell_ did you do?"

Jaune's hands were already up in the air, as if surrendering might prevent her from strangling him. "I didn't have anything to do with it, I swear. It was all your father's idea."

"I don't _care_ whose idea it was. Explain," she growled, twisting the fistful of tunic until her knuckles grazed his throat. "Now."

Jaune blanched, the color draining from his face as Weiss' glare sharpened. "Look, dragon slayers are a pretty hot item. The bards are already working on a few new stori-"

"Jaune, I couldn't care less about your falsified heroics. Why is this here?"

"... they're not false," Jaune said, a hint of petulance creeping into his voice. Gods, the boy was actually _pouting._ "I'mthe one who rescued you while it had you under its spell. _I'm_ the one who led everyone back to kill that freak."

"And I look forward to the chorus about you hitting a young woman in the head with a rock after she knocked you on your ass. Stop deflecting." Swallowing, she gave one last glance at the jumbled silk resting on the bed. It was a soft, pale pink, and cut in a fashion that made her skin crawl. "Why is my father giving me a betrothal gown?"

For a second, he looked like he was about to argue. Like he might actually grow a spine. Then he looked away, shame making it impossible to meet her eyes.

"Your father thought ... well, I was the one who rescued you, so maybe ... it might be a good idea if we ... got married?" The last part carried the distinct sound of a question, testing to see her reaction to the idea, a spark of hope flickering behind his eyes.

"Of course he did," Weiss muttered, releasing her grip and letting him fall back into the chair. _'My father thought' huh? Yeah_, _I'm sure you fought _real_ hard to convince him it was a bad idea._

She shouldn't be surprised, really. Her father _had_ been wanting to find a suitable match for her for a while now. Winter's marriage had given her some leeway, but she'd always known that eventually her father would pick a suitor, and now he was stuck trying to offload her after this whole 'incident.' The sacrifice and her abduction posed a problem for him – there was no telling what might have happened to her while she was Yang's 'captive,' and any previous choices had probably dropped their suits the instant she was chosen as the sacrifice. There was little chance of gaining any political ground with her marriage now. Wedding her to Jaune, on the other hand ... well, that meant he'd be adding a 'hero' to the family. Given enough time, he could spin the story of her capture and what Jaune called a 'rescue' into a story worthy of telling.

She could almost hear it now. How they'd had no choice but to go through with the sacrifice, how the gods had demanded it, how Jaune had immediately come to her rescue and slain the monster trying to devour her whole. The whole thing was enough to make her gag.

"Anyway," Jaune said, interrupting her chain of thought. "Since you're engaged, he said you should wear a gown befitting a claimed woman."

"... get rid of it."

"Look Weiss, I-I'm not completely against the idea." Shifting forward, he wrapped his hand around the edge of the bed, leaving it a few inches away from her own. "I'm not saying we _should_, just that, well, I've admired you for a long time, and-"

"The answer to the question is no, Jaune." Grabbing the side of the wrapping, she yanked the package and the accursed gown off the bed, letting them fall to the floor with a thump. She didn't need this bullshit. Not now. Not after hearing about ... not after this.

"I think it's about time for you to leave."

"Come on, Weiss. I saved your life. Most people would think that I deserved a shot, at least."

"Not going to happen."

The pout deepened, and Jaune slumped back into the chair, a harsh note slipping into his voice. "... I suppose this is the part where you get _dramatic_ and say you'd rather kill yourself than marry me."

"Hardly," she snapped.

"Really?" He was at her bedside in an instant, looking more like a particularly unwanted and untrained puppy than some heroic monster-hunter. "Look, Weiss, if you give me a chance, I swear I'll-"

"I have a bit more self-respect than that," she cut him off. She didn't need to hear some poorly thought-out declaration of love, some grand plan to _prove_ just how much he cared for her, no matter her feelings towards him.

Turning to face him, Weiss could feel her hostility, her anger boiling over. For once, she didn't stop it, glowering at him with all the regal fury she could muster. This expectation that she owed him anything, hell, his mere _existence_ ... she wanted to punch his bloody teeth in.

"Trust me, Jaune, I'll kill _you_ before I let that happen."

The blonde boy blinked, hope fading into shock and Sighing, he stood, brushing off his new tunic and the gold clasps at his shoulders. Reaching out, he patted the side of the bed, smiling down at her in sympathy.

"I know it doesn't mean much to you now, but I promise I'll wait for you," he said, his voice soft and low. "I really do care about you, Weiss. When this thing wears off, when you come to your senses, maybe you'll see that."

Then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him, locked by a man Weiss couldn't even see.

* * *

**Again, sorry for the wait, everyone. I had a hard time getting this scene to work. Hopefully there shouldn't be much of a wait after this. I'm gonna try to crank out as much content as I can before RTX.**

**Chapter 8 Preview:**

_**The amphora cracked, then shattered beneath the blows, the sound thankfully muffled by the blankets piled atop it. Carefully, she peeled the layers back. Wrapping her hand in the blanket, she grabbed the sharpest piece she could find. Sending her silent thanks to whichever god had skipped over Jaune when it came to handing out brains, she wrapped the thicker end in the blanket, and started hacking away at the knots tying her other hand to the bed. **_

_** Within a minute, she was free, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and landing cat-like on the floor. Her body complained, but no more than she expected after at least two days tied in place. Her head throbbed, but it was a far cry from how she'd felt that first day, and with a minor amount of wincing, she snuck her way over towards the door. **_

**Please drop a review if you can! I'm really curious to hear what people thought, and constructive criticism is always welcome. Seriously. Trust me, my ego can take it.**


	8. Escape

**Writer's Note: Since it looks like I didn't make it clear enough, I wanted to say that this story's narrator(s) aren't always reliable. The narration is colored by whichever character happens to be the focus at that moment. So to the people who were wondering why it's been so tough on Jaune, well, it's because that's pretty much exactly what Weiss thinks of him. Whether or not you think Weiss' judgement is accurate is up to you.**

**Happy Freezerburn Friday, everyone.**

* * *

**Escape**

Jaune waited until he was alone before slumping back against the wall. Eyes shut, he let his head fall back against the plaster, thumping against it a few times for good measure. It didn't help much, but he supposed it was a better form of catharsis than punching the wall as hard as he could, or growling in frustration at the first person he saw.

Sighing, he stared up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused. That ... hadn't gone well. Then again, he wasn't exactly sure what he'd expected. With everything Weiss had been through, maybe there wasn't a way it _could_ have gone well. Especially not with her father's idea of a surprise betrothal.

He felt awful seeing her like this. It was obvious the dragon's death had upset her, even if it was just the leftovers of the monster's curse. It probably still felt real to her – real loss, real distress. It might even be worse, depending on how the magic worked. None of the healers or priests had any idea what the consequences of the dragon's compulsion might be, or how it might be affecting her mind.

For the umpteenth time since he'd found Weiss outside that cave, Jaune wished he knew _something _of magic. It wasn't like he'd never heard of it – he wasn't some country bumpkin who'd go slack-jawed at his first sight of a satyr – but magic was rare, unpredictable, and as dangerous as the monsters that roamed the forests outside Atlas' borders. The kind of people who actually practiced it were even worse. He had heard tale after tale while he was growing up, stories of an angered witch cursing some hapless traveler with an ass' head, sorceresses who turned whole armies into pigs, then led them to slaughter, fell wizards summoning the bones of the dead and sending them to murder their own kin.

Not that every magician or witch in the stories was outright evil. Still, even the ones that weren't malicious were hardly the kind of people to be trifled with. Unless you _liked_ getting changed into some animal, or a broomstick, or having your skin turned blue, or...

_Or having them take over your mind and change you, until you're no longer the person you used to be. _

Shivering at the thought, Jaune sighed and pulled himself off the wall. Standing here, doing nothing, wasn't going to help anyone. At the very least, he could visit the healers, see if they had any ideas on how to snap her out of this. Weiss wasn't herself, probably hadn't been since that _thing_ took her, and the only real explanation for that was magic. Magic was the only way someone like Weiss Schnee would willingly stay with a homicidal monster, the only way to explain how he'd found her doing something as domestic as _laundry_, in front of a cave in the middle of a forest.

The Weiss he remembered was too proud for that, too sharp and caustic to just let something manipulate her. She had gone to that altar on the cliff with her head held high, willing to give up her life for the sake of her people. There was no way she'd just _decide _to stay with her captor, no way she wouldn't try to escape. She was a hero, a martyr who'd sacrificed herself for the good of her city.

_Assuming she really had a choice, _a small voice in the back of his mind whispered. _After all, even if she refused, if her father wanted it to happen ..._

No. No parent would willingly send their child off to die. She _had_ to have volunteered. She had to.

_Really? _the skeptical part of him asked. _Lord Schnee didn't seem all that concerned until _after _she'd been found. Hell, she even looked more 'pissed' than 'determined' during the procession down to the cliffs. And if _any_ parent could actually do it_ _..._

Shaking his head, Jaune lengthened his stride, as if moving quicker would get him further away from the idea. That was something he definitely shouldn't be thinking. Not about his liege. Especially not if he valued his life. Plus, who wouldn't be unhappy about having to be sacrificed? A little bit of anger shouldn't be surprising, whether she really volunteered or not.

_A little bit?_

... fine. Maybe the curse hadn't changed her personality all that much. She'd never exactly been the 'demure' type. He could see how she might be a tad resentful over the city trying to off her. But still ...

_I mean, would it kill her to show just a _little _gratitude? _he thought, his feet carrying him aimlessly down the hall. After all, he _had _carried her halfway across the countryside. And saved her from a dragon. _And_ gone back to make sure it couldn't come after her again.

... and hit her in the head with a rock.

_Okay, so maybe she does have a halfway decent reason to be pissed at me. And her father. And the city. Still ... I am trying. That should count for _something_, right?_

After all, none of this was _his_ idea. Keeping her isolated until the curse wore off, the engagement, all of that came from her father. Even if he disagreed, there wasn't exactly much he could do about it.

At least no one had mentioned to her the healers' first suggestion after Jaune carried Weiss home. He was pretty sure the princess would have found a way to murder them all in their sleep if she had. To be fair, it _was_ one of the more famous curse-breakers, and an idea Lord Schnee wholeheartedly approved of. Namely, true love's kiss.

Jaune had squashed that idea as quickly has he could. There was no way in hell that Weiss would be okay with that, not wither like this. Even without the curse, he doubted she'd be all that fond of the idea, and he didn't want their first kiss to be something he had to force on her while she wasn't even in her right mind.

It probably wouldn't even work, anyway. He cared for her, but Jaune was pretty sure 'true love' required at least a bit of affection from the other person. Since the Princess had never given a lowly guard like him the time of day, he doubted the whole 'true love' thing really applied. At least, not for now. Hopefully once the curse was lifted, she'd realize everything he'd done for her. He was the hero, after all.

_Maybe it'll just wear off _eventually, Jaune thought absently, his feet carrying him out through the palace gardens. _There was no way that dragon could have survived the cave-in. _

_And if it doesn't?_ _What happens if she's stuck like this?_

_We'll find someone to break the curse. _After all, there had to be _someone_ out there who could fix her. An oracle, maybe? A sorceress? There wasn't one in Atlas, but maybe in Vale ...

Either way, it wasn't anything he could do now. Letting out his breath in one long, deep sigh, he turned back towards the palace and headed for the healers.

* * *

_Three ... two ... one._

As soon as Jaune was out of earshot, Weiss grabbed the clay jug off the bedside table. Dumping the remaining water onto the floor, she rolled it up inside the bedsheets, piling as much of the cloth as she could around the _amphora_. Looking down at the bundle of linen, Weiss furrowed her brow, then threw one of the pillows on top for good measure. Satisfied, she rocked backwards on the bed, trying to get into a better position despite the rope still tying her other hand in place.

Hoping it would be enough to muffle the noise, Weiss brought her free arm up. Putting as much of her weight behind it as she could, the princess brought the side of her elbow crashing down onto the glazed ceramic.

The _amphora_ shifted, cracked, then shattered beneath the blows, the sound thankfully muted by the bedclothes piled atop it. Careful not to cut herself on any stray shards, Weiss peeled the layers back and admired her handiwork. Wrapping her hand in the blanket, she rummaged through the pile until she found the thickest, sharpest piece she could find. Sending silent thanks to whichever god skipped over Jaune when it came to handing out brains, she wrapped the thicker end in the blanket, and started hacking away at the knots tying her other hand to the bed.

A few minutes and several cracked shards later, she was free, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and landing cat-like on the floor. Her body complained, but no more than she expected after at least two days tied in place. Her head throbbed and her arms were stiff and sore, but it was a far cry from how she'd felt that first day. With a minor amount of wincing, she made her way over towards the door.

Weiss stopped as her foot hit something soft. Looking down, she saw the betrothal dress her father had left for her, lying atop a bouquet of crushed lilies, their petals mangled by the dress.

Kicking the garment aside, Weiss glanced over at the pile of gifts left for her. There were flowers – far too many flowers – the odd piece of jewelry, and of course that damn dress. Nothing she could actually use. _Which really is idiotic,_ she thought, making her way over to the door. _After they tried to murder me, someone_ _should have guessed that the one thing I _really_ needed was a weapon. Suppose it's too much to ask._

Then again ... silk _could_ get pretty thin ...

Grinning, she grabbed the betrothal gown up from the floor, tearing into the hem with her teeth until she managed to rip a few good, long strips out of the accursed dress. Wrapping her palms with some of the fabric, she took the longest strip and twisted, wringing it tighter and tighter until she had a tight, thin cord in her hands. Knotting it together, she smiled, checking to make sure the twists would stay in place.

_I'm enjoying this more than I should,_ she thought, tearing a few extra strips off the hem before pulling her makeshift garrote tight between her hands. It seemed fitting that her father's gift, one more attempt to control her, should end up being what helped her escape.

Moving to the door, she flattened herself against the wall and closed her eyes. There wasn't room for any mistakes now. If she missed, if she froze, if she wasn't able to take him out ...

_Yang's out there. Maybe even hurt. For all you know she's trapped under a pile of rubble. Or even-_

Weiss shook her head. Yang couldn't be dead. She was a _dragon_, for heaven's sake. There's no way in hell that Jaune, of all people, managed to kill her. Even if they _had_ managed to collapse part of the cave, Yang would be fine. She had to be.

_Then where is she?_

The cave-in. That had to be it. If they actually managed to cause one, Yang was probably just stuck, or having trouble clearing enough rubble to get out. It was a small comfort, but at least it was something. At worst, she might – emphasis on _might –_ be injured. If she couldn't fly, it might take her days to get to the city. Or_ ..._

_Or maybe she's too badly hurt to do anything. Maybe she's dying because you thought Jaune had some sense of honor. Maybe ..._

_Maybe she thinks you wanted to go with him. That _you_ sent those soldiers after her. _

Mind made up, Weiss readied the cord between her hands. One way or another, she was getting out of here. Taking a breath, she screamed, trying to sound as breathless and panicked as possible. It wasn't difficult, not with her heart already racing.

They key was in the lock before she stopped shrieking. The guard posted outside her door rushed in, only for Weiss' makeshift garrote to loop around his neck. The cord tightened as she hauled back, pulling it taut as the guard tried to buck her off. He might be larger than she was, but she had surprise on her side. That, and being able to actually _breathe._

Weiss ducked as the man clawed blindly behind him, trying to grab the petite girl currently strangling him. Pitching backwards, the guard slammed into the wall, driving the breath from her lungs as she clung desperately to his back. The second blow made her lose her grip for a second, and she slid down, clinging for dear life to the two handfuls of silken cord. Weiss was far from heavy, but the guard still let out a short choking sound as a hundred-and-ten pounds of furious girl pulled on his neck. He tried to slam into the wall again, his movements sluggish, and only managed to knock his own shoulder blades against the stone.

The guard's knees gave out beneath him, and he tumbled to the floor, clawing at the silk wrapped around his neck. Weiss' bare feet scrambled on the tiled floor as she fought to stay in position, hauling back until the man's struggles slowed, then finally stopped.

Dropping the cord to the floor, Weiss collapsed beside the body, her breath coming in short gasps. Gingerly, she pressed a hand against her ribs, wincing at a pain in her side. _Not broken, _she decided_. Probably just a bruised rib. It __d__efinitely could have gone worse__._

Careful for any sign of movement, Weiss turned the guard's head until she could put her hand in front of his mouth. He was still breathing, the short puffs of air hitting her skin.

Dropping his head to the ground, Weiss frowned, one hand absently playing with the silk cord. There was no telling how long he'd be out. If she was lucky, the guard would sleep for a few hours – more than enough time for her to make it out of the palace. If she wasn't, if he woke to early, or someone noticed he wasn't at his post, he could bring the entire guard chasing after her.

Sighing, she yanked the man's arms behind him, tying his wrists and ankles together before gagging him with more of the torn silk. Confident the knots would hold, she started stripping the gear off of the unconscious man.

Weiss ignored the armor. It wouldn't have fit her anyway, and the last thing she needed was to be weighed down by the unwieldy leather. His belt – not to mention the sword and keys hanging off of it – were more useful, and with minimal struggling, Weiss managed to yank it out from beneath him. The belt itself was far too big for her; she had to tie the two ends together to stop it from falling. At least it kept the scabbard from tripping her every ten seconds.

Leaving the hog-tied guard behind her, she peeked her head out into the hall. It was empty. Silent, even. No footsteps echoed off the walls, no one shouted that the supposedly cursed and deranged princess had escaped. Satisfied that no one was coming, she slipped out of the room and locked the door behind her.

_Now what?_ Weiss stood in the center of the hallway, trying to decide her next move. The gardens were out; the wall was too high to climb, it was almost always patrolled, and the only unguarded exits led back into the palace. That just left the east wing or the main hall.

The main hall would be busier, especially if her father was entertaining. East wing it was. Turning left, Weiss moved down the hall as quickly as she dared, bare feet treading softly on the tiled floor. She passed the doors to her sister's and her father's quarters as she went, slowing down as the turn to the rest of the wing drew closer. Ears perked for the slightest sound of movement, she squashed herself against the wall.

The hallway was abandoned. Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she moved on, stopping whenever voices or footsteps reached her ears. Twice she needed to duck into an alcove while a pair of servants walked by, platters of food carried in their hands as they carted it off towards the main hall.

_I suppose Father really _is _entertaining, _she thought as another servant passed her hiding spot, bearing a tray off towards the main hall, laden with dried figs, grilled chestnuts, and beechnuts. It was typical _tragēmata_, standard after-meal fare for the menfolk to feast upon while they descended into their typical drunken stupor.

_Not that it matters. With any luck, I'll be gone before they finish their wine._

The rest of the corridor was clear. Ignoring the path to the kitchens – they would be crawling with servants and cooks – she turned south and kept going, the whisper of her clothes a harsh sound in the silent halls. On the lookout for any more interruptions, she headed for a servants' entrance, used to bring goods into the palace and, ideal for her needs, very lightly guarded. The actual door itself was easily barred and locked from the inside, but more importantly, the relative distance from the rest of the house meant that it wasn't a good route for a potential attacker to take. They'd have to fight their way down the comparatively tight and narrow halls, the kind of space the guards could defend with relative ease.

It was an awful place to try to stage an attack, but a perfectly good one for an escape. Just as she hoped, he rounded the corner and found the door to the room abandoned. Thanking whoever was responsible for her luck, Weiss tested the door handle and eased the thick wood open.

With a choked curse, she whirled away, promptly flattening back against the wall. Four guards stood at attention around the storeroom exit, blades sheathed at their side.

Forcing herself to take slow, silent breaths, Weiss backed away from the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Dammit. It didn't make sense. There should only be one guard by the door, two at most, and only when they were expecting a delivery. One guard she could have distracted or taken without a too much difficulty, maybe even two. But four? Either her father was expecting trouble, or ...

_Someone already found out I escaped._

Okay. It wasn't the worst thing in the world. It was a setback, but there were other ways out of the palace. Turning around, Weiss darted back down the hall. Two turns later and she was at the top of a staircase that led down towards the front of the grounds. From there, she should be able to slip out. It was not her first choice – the grounds were more likely to be guarded and the route was more exposed than the storeroom – but with any luck she would still be able to make it.

Whatever luck she'd had was gone. A group of guards milled around the grounds, waiting impatiently while the one in charge spoke with a messenger. Nodding furiously, the message runner took off back into the house, his sandals clapping on the flagstones. In an instant, the other guards formed up around the watch leader talking quickly before moving towards the house.

With a growing sense of dread, Weiss doubled back a second time, hoping to get to her third best option before her father's men closed that off too. To her dismay, her third, her fourth, even her fifth choice for an escape route was already blocked, and the last time she tried, the guards were already moving down the hall by the time she got close. Peeling back the way she'd come, Weiss bolted down the hall, tearing around the corner before the guards could spot her.

She would have cursed, if she had any breath left to do it. Every route, every hall, every shortcut was being systematically searched, and every time she had to change direction, it gave the guards more time to close in. _Whether mean to or not, the guards were herding her towards the main hall,_

That left her two options: keep trying to slip past the guards long enough to get off the palace grounds, or go right for the front doors.

_Not exactly much of a choice_. Unsheathing her sword, Weiss took off on a dead run for her father's hall trying to put as much distance between her and the guards as possible. With the way they were searching, she should have enough time to slip out into the city. It didn't matter if they figured out where she was going; as long as she just made it there in time...

Rounding the corner, the princess found herself facing the double doors that led to the grand hall, and the faces of two rather startled, wide-eyed guards. _Dammit. _She was so close. Even from the other end of the corridor, she could hear the unintelligible chatter and chaos of the _symposion _leaking through the heavy wood.

"It's going to be alright, Princess," the first guard said, hand outstretched as he approached. "Just put down the-"

Weiss wasn't in the mood for talk. Charging forward, she slammed her sword hilt-first into the man's stomach, the wind rushing out of him as he doubled over, hands clutching his gut. Pushing him aside, she turned to face the second guard, his sword already drawn as he advanced towards her.

He attacked before she could get herself centered, quickly putting her on the defensive. The guard swung his sword in short, double-handed chops, designed to knock the blade from her fingers. Each blow sent waves of force cascading up her arms, wearing her down every time she blocked his blade. Which was probably exactly what he was trying to do: tire her out or beat her into submission, whichever came first.

_Impertinent little ... _Scowling, Weiss took the next blow at an angle and closed the distance, bringing them body-to-body and locking her hilt with his. The guard grinned and put his whole weight behind the sword, convinced she'd made a fatal mistake in getting this close to a taller, heavier opponent. Spinning aside, Weiss watched as the man stumbled forward, surprised by the sudden lack of resistance. The man tried to catch his balance, but it was already too late. Bringing her leg up and in, she lashed out as he passed, connecting right at the side of his leg.

A sickening crack resounded through the air, followed by the man's howl as he clutched his dislocated knee. The raucous cries emanating from the next room drowned him out, his scream joining the jumble of shouts and cries for more wine or food. The noise was loud enough that she barely even heard the sound of steel on stone as she kicked the man's weapon away, sending it clattering along the ground.

Satisfied that the injury would keep him down as long as she needed, Weiss turned back to the first guard, only to find him struggling to his knees. Grabbing the back of his head with one hand, Weiss slammed her knee into his jaw, his teeth coming together with a click before his eyes rolled up in his head. Letting go of his hair, Weiss let the unconscious man topple limply to the ground before turning on her other victim. The crippled guard was crawling towards his sword, dragging his wounded leg behind him. His fingertips had just brushed the hilt of his weapon when Weiss brought her own hilt thudding down into the base of his skull.

It was over. Panting, her heart pounding, Weiss let herself slump back against the wall. Adrenaline and the fury of combat quickly faded, leaving her an exhausted, sweaty mess. Her legs burned from running, her arms and shoulders ached from each blow she'd parried, her ribs ...

Shaking her head, she forced herself back to her feet. She didn't have time for this. Every minute she waited was another the red of the guard could spend hunting her down, another minute Yang was out there, trapped, or hurt, or worse ...

She needed to move fast; there would be time to count her injuries once she was outside of the city. Untying the sword belt from her waist, Weiss managed to swing it over her shoulder, tying it like a bandolier across her chest. _It'll do, _she decided, trying to settle the awkward weapon so it didn't choke her if she needed to run. Yanking the cloak off the first guard, the princess swung it about her shoulders, flipping the cloth so the plain underside faced out and shielding the guards' colors from sight. Punching the hood into shape, she knotted the cloak in place, settling it over the top of her weapon and hiding it from view.

It wasn't a great disguise. Not even a halfway decent one. Anyone looking at her closely would know she didn't belong there – apart from the servers and courtesans her father brought in for 'entertainment,' the _symposion _was strictly for men – but it might be enough to get her to the doors before someone sounded the alarm.

Hood pulled low over her face and wishing she had her sword in-hand, Weiss hauled the door open and stepped inside. The smell assaulted her first. The room reeked of wine and cheese, of olive oil and unwashed men. Chestnuts and honeycakes lay scattered across the low tables while supervised servants handled the party's seemingly endless supply of wine, filling cup after cup of the just barely watered-down alcohol. Dozens of conversations filled the room as nobles and guests rested on couches and benches arranged for their comfort, while a number of younger men lounged and played _kottabos_, using the dregs of their cups to try and knock a small target disk off its bronze stand. Their misses fell to the ground, painting the floor around the target a dark violet and contributing to the heavy, almost painful smell of the room.

Weiss caught all this out of the corner of her eye as she slid behind the crowd closest to the wall. Dodging an offered cup, she slipped between party-goers and chattering guests, hoping no one decided to look under the hood of their most recent arrival. Glancing around, Weiss thought she could make out a few dozen of the guests, all nobles from the city and frequent drinking companions of her father. The rest seemed to be there for the celebration, younger and poorer noble houses, rich traders, the odd philosopher or writer to add a twinge of respectability. At the head of the hall was her father, cup in-hand as he chatted amiably with one of the nobles splayed out beside him. Jaune sat awkwardly on his right, fiddling with his goblet and looking like he'd rather be just about anywhere else.

_I hope you enjoy the hero's treatment, Jaune, _Weiss smirked as she slipped out of sight behind a column. _You two deserve each other._

She was barely twenty feet from the door when a clanging cut through the din. The chaotic babble fumbled and died, grinding to a halt as the assembled guests turned to their host. Lord Schnee was on his feet, his cup balanced on one hand as he addressed the assembled crowd.

"Friends, countrymen ... assorted freeloaders," he began to an odd mix of polite and uproarious laughter from the still-drinking men. "Before my guests manage to drink me out of house and home, I would like to propose a toast. To the glory of the gods, and of course, our most honored guest."

Raising his cup, Schnee turned to the blonde boy seated at his side, gesturing for Jaune to join him. His reluctance plain on his face, Jaune stood, crossing to stand at her father's right hand.

"I'm sure by now all of you have heard the story. How this young man rescued my youngest daughter from the monster terrorizing our city. How he led a band of our best soldiers and slew the dragon in its lair." At the mention of the dragon, the crowd burst into a chorus of grumbling – drunken, angry noises – only to quiet as Lord Schnee raised his hand. "He is a hero, cut from the same cloth as the titan for whom our city is named. Just as the world rests its hopes and dreams on Atlas, and on our fair city, so too do our hopes rest with him."

Rolling her eyes, Weiss managed to slip a little closer to the doors, trading the cover of a large man chewing a honey cake for a decorated column. _What a load of crock._

"Since this is a day for happy news," the lord said, his voice booming through the packed hall. "I would like to say one more thing before we return to tonight's revels. There is nothing that can repay our debt to this man, not after all he has done for this city, not to mention my family. When he returned, I offered him any boon that was within my power to give. Gold, jewels, a seat at my council even, but alas, none of these were enough."

Puling Jaune closer, Schnee looped her arm around the shorter man's shoulders. "It brings me great joy to say that this young man has asked for my daughter's hand in marriage. It will be an honor to have a true hero, a dragon slayer, in my house."

Applause burst from around the room. Cups were raised in Jaune's honor, cries of appreciation for his efforts in keeping their city safe. In the far back of the room, eyes like shards of ice glared out from beneath one particular hood, promising painful, bloody retribution against the men who had the gall to try and decide her fate.

"I mean ..." Jaune tried to say, barely intelligible over the crowd. "We're waiting for the monster's spell her to wear off. But afterwards, I need to ask her-"

"Nonsense," her father said jovially. His arm tightened around Jaune's shoulders, pulling the smaller man even closer, and Weiss thought she saw Jaune wince as Schnee's fingers tightened like a vise around his arm. "What girl wouldn't want to marry the hero who rescued her from a dragon's clutches?"

_What girl, indeed, _Weiss thought, turning her back to the entire farce and moving for the door. If she could only make it past the guards ...

Just then, the rear doors she'd used burst open and a line of guardsmen flooded into the hall. The two men she'd taken out brought up the rear, slung over the shoulders of some of the reinforcements.

"Milord," the guard-commander said, bowing quickly to her father and his guests. "The Princess ... she's escaped."

The crowd's complaints at having their fun interrupted died as quickly as the cheer on her father's face.

"Captain," the lord growled, radiating fury as he stepped down from his seat. "Where _exactly_ is my daughter?"

"Here, sir. There was no other way out, and the two men at the door were-"

"They let her past?" Schnee cut him off. At the captain's nod, the lord's face hardened, stone-cold eyes merciless as he turned to look at the two injured men being lifted by their fellows.

"Execute them," he said softly.

"My lord, I-"

"Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'I have found your daughter,' you are free to join them, Captain," Schnee snapped. For a second, Weiss thought the guard was about to protest, to beg for the lives of his men. Then resignation crossed his face, and he nodded, cowed into submission. Satisfied, Lord Schnee turned his gaze out onto the hall. "Go. Search the room. Find her before she hurts herself."

Nodding, the captain gestured to his men, and the guards started spreading throughout the room. Biting the side of her lip, Weiss shifted further behind the nearby guests, trying to get as much room between them as she could. It would only take them a few minutes to find her, to realize the small figure with the hood had to be the missing princess. She could either stay, wait for them to find her, or ...

The decision was made for her. One of the guards checking the room came closer, his eyes falling on the tiny figure in the corner of the room, her face hidden. His mind came to the only reasonable conclusion, and as his eyes widened, he called out to the others.

"Milord, I found-"

He never got to finish. Bounding off the wall, Weiss slammed the base of her palm into his throat, cutting off the cry and leaving him gasping for air. Yanking her borrowed sword out of its sheath, she grabbed the man about the shoulders, pushing him in front of her as she started back towards the doors. With a shout, the rest of the guards rushed towards her, only stopping when her blade came up to rest against her captive's throat.

The rest of the guards ground to a halt, blades coming out of their sheaths as she stared them down. Concern for the fellow kept them from rushing her, but it was a short-lived strategy at best. If they managed to get behind her, or cut her off, she'd have nowhere to go.

"Wait! Let me talk to her!" a high-pitched voice cried, as Jaune pushed his way through the line of guards. "Weiss, please. No one here wants to hurt you. I know you're confused, but-"

"Jaune," Weiss said, trying to keep as many guards as she could in her line of sight. There were too many of them; if they flanked her, she wouldn't stand a chance. "Do us all a favor, and shut up."

A look of utter shock crossed his face. "Look, you don't know what you're doing. This is all that dragon's curse messing with your head. If you'll just put down the sword-"

"I know exactly what I'm doing and there _is_ no spell, you moron," she growled, taking a step back as the guards advanced. "Is it so hard to believe that after my own father nearly killed me, I wasn't particularly keen to come back?"

At that, the line of guards split as a tall man with graying hair stepped forward, coming to stand by Jaune. Her father's eyes were cold as he stared down at her; there was no trace of mercy, or affection, just that same hard look she'd seen countless times before.

"I'll kill him," Weiss said, pressing the sword a little closer and hauling her hostage back towards the door. It was a bluff, but if she could just make it a little further ...

"Go right ahead. I was planning execute him anyway," her father said. "Anyone who lets himself get captured by a woman doesn't deserve a place among my men."

Weiss' stomach dropped. The guard's life might have been enough to stop his fellows, but not anymore. He was effectively dead already, either at her hands or her fathers. There was no reason for the rest of the guard to stop, and the threat of her father's anger meant they'd probably do just about anything to keep from ending up like the gasping man in her arms. Her hostage might as well be made of parchment, for all the good he'd do her.

Her father had called her bluff. Worst of all, he knew it.

Lord Schnee's lips twitched with the barest hint of a smirk. Knowing he'd already won, he turned, taking a swig from his cup as he walked back to the party. "Guards, take her bac-"

A shout from beyond the door cut him off.

"Hey, you can't just-"

Before the speaker could finish, something heavy thudded against the doors, making the thick wood shake in its hinges.

"What do you-"

Another thud as something weighing about as much as a grown man in a guard's uniform slammed into the barred doors.

With a horrendous crash, the double doors at the end of the hall burst open, splinters flying as they slammed into the walls behind them.

A woman stood in the doorway, framed by the night's shadows and the two unconscious guards lying at her feet. Blonde hair hung down past her waist, spilling around her tunic and moving almost with a life of their own. One hand rested on a sword belted at her waist, the other was wrapped around the crushed remains of the door-handle. Firelight flickered in her blood-red eyes, and the smoke from the torches almost made it seem like streams of smoke licked from the sides of her mouth.

"Hey," she said to the silent hall, tossing the ruined piece of metal aside. "Sorry to interrupt your shindig, but I'm looking for some cowardly prick named 'Jaune.'"

* * *

**Whew. Really worked down to the line on that one. It may be a bit rough in places, but I really wanted to get it out this week - I'll probably go back and do one more edit before the last chapter.**

** As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated - especially since I hope this chapter alleviates some of the concerns some people had after the last couple. Also, I usually respond to any of the reviews if there's a question or critique in it, so if you have something you want to ask, please feel free.**

**Now it's time to wait and see if Ryn does any more response posts when she reads this.**


	9. Vengeance

**Writer's Note: Posting this as I board my flight for Texas. Time for the annual RTX pilgrimage!**

* * *

**Vengeance**

For a long moment in the crowded dining hall, there was complete and utter silence. The assembled guests formed a garden of statues, torn between staring at the rage-filled face of their host, his daughter currently holding one of the guards before her with a blade pressed against his neck, or the Amazonian blonde standing in the doorway. Servants frozen in mid-pour looked out from beside cauldrons of wine, oil, or water, their tasks forgotten with the dragon's sudden entrance. Weiss couldn't blame them. The fingers gripping her sword were numb, her heart pounded in her chest with equal parts shock and relief, and the only reason her captive hadn't already escaped was that he too was staring open-mouthed at the ferocious looking woman slowly making her way down the stairs. Yang's left arm lay folded across her chest, resting atop the hilt of her blade, while the other hung at her side, knuckles cracking as her fist clenched. Blonde tresses trailed behind her as she moved, crimson eyes seeming to glow in the dim light.

The sound of Yang's bare feet landing on the tiled floor was almost painful in the quiet room. The slow, steady drip of an upturned cup and crackling of the torches were the only other noises; any conversation had died with Weiss' escape attempt. The startled guests stood stunned, words stuck in their throats, food halfway to mouths. Then Yang took one step too many, bringing one of the guards to his senses, steel singing as he drew his sword. Abandoning the group around the princess, he moved forward to detain the unwanted intruder, the girl who had so rudely crashed the already chaotic party.

He never stood a chance.

Yang dodged his arm, sliding aside as easily as if he had been standing still. Her right hand whipped out to grab the man by the front of his tunic, yanking up and hauling him off balance. Weight settled in her hips, she turned, lobbing him across the room with all the grace and ease of a child throwing a doll. He landed hard, sword clattering against the ground as he skidded to halt against one of the low tables, his eyes wide as he gasped for breath.

Grimacing, Yang wiped her hand on her tunic and turned back to the assembled guests.

"Please tell me I didn't get the wrong house. Everyone in town said it was the big one on the hill."

Silence was her only answer, until the rest of the guards recovered from watching their fellow's rather unceremonious treatment. A chorus of blades rang about the room as any weapons that weren't already drawn came free from their holders. Out of the corner of her eye, Weiss watched as Lord Schnee made some gesture, sending one of the messengers bolting out the side doors, back down the hall she had come from.

_Probably to get more men,_ she chuckled to herself, heady from adrenaline and relief, and the simple joy of seeing the dragon again. _Not that it'll help them any._

When no one spoke, Yang sighed, coming to a stop barely five feet from the quickly-forming line of guards. Rolling her eyes, she cocked her head back, gaze locking on the young man currently trapped with the princess' sword against his throat.

"Hey Weiss," she said, nonchalant and, to all appearances, barely interested. "How you doing?"

Weiss couldn't decide if she wanted to hug the blonde or kill her. After everything she'd done just to get this far, after how much she'd worried about this stupid, arrogant, flippant lizard... Not only was she _fine_, but she strolled in, acting like it was just another day at the agora. _Of all the nerve _...

Weiss was about to tell Yang _exactly _how she was doing and _exactly_ what she thought the blonde could do with that sword, when she caught Yang's eyes. Mouth already open, she froze, struck dumb by the combination of concern and utter rage she saw on the dragon's face. In that instant, she was perfectly confident that if she said 'no,' Yang would quite happily grab the nearest guard and rip his head clean off.

Only when she was sure her voice was steady did she look back at the blonde. "Peachy," Weiss drawled. "This is what I do for fun. You?"

The corner of Yang's mouth flickered with the barest trace of a smile. "Can't complain. Had a nice tailwind on my way into town."

Looking back at the rest of the guests, Yang cracked one last knuckle and started moving towards the line of guards. Ignoring the weapons pointed towards her, Yang stared around the space, standing on tiptoe to peer over the crowd.

"Come on, people. Jaune Arc. Supposed to be seven feet tall, with a blade thicker than a man's arm ... dragon's blood dripping from his teeth." Glancing back, Yang shrugged at the look of utter disbelief Weiss knew had to be on her face. "What? That's what everyone at the gate was saying."

"I'm Jaune." The quiet voice cut through the otherwise soundless hall, as Jaune stepped through the line of guards, his new sword – with a hilt covered in gold, encrusted with jewels and shimmering in the torchlight – held loosely at his side. "Why are you looking for me?"

"... _you're_ Jaune Arc?"

"Yup."

Yang looked completely nonplussed as she stared down at the young guardsman. "The dragonslayer everyone keeps talking about?"

"Yeah, that's me," he said, the embarrassment plain on his face as he rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck, lips twitching in a smile.

"_Really_?" Yang's voice pitched up in disbelief. "_You're_ the ... I expected someone with muscle. Maybe a_ little_ devious, but at least somewhat impressive. Not ... this." Sighing, she sagged back against one of the pillars, her right hand coming up to rub at her temples.

Jaune's mouth worked silently, caught off guard by the outright dismissal. Shaking his head, he coughed to clear his throat, brow furrowing in confusion. "If case you hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of something right now, so unless you're here for a reason-"

"I can't believe it," Yang muttered, head in hand as she stared ejected up at the ceiling. "A perfectly good collection wrecked by the human equivalent of a limp noodle. I will _never_ live this down."

"What do you _want_?" Jaune's face was turning red – from annoyance or anger, Weiss couldn't tell. "You came looking for me. I'm here. So-"

"Fine. Fine," Yang cut him off, stepping forward until the two of them were toe-to-toe. Even bare-footed, she stood a good head taller than the young guardsman, looming over him as her expression shifted, the resignation slipping from her face.

"You violated the sanctity of my home. You kidnapped a guest from beneath my roof, stole my possessions, generally demonstrated a complete lack of honor or respect, and broke pretty much every code of hospitality I can think of." Her eyes narrowed to slits as she glowered down at him, and Weiss could have sworn a puff of smoke issued from her nostrils. "It was _extremely_ rude."

The young man was caught with his mouth open. "I-I've never done anything like that!"

"Right, I forgot the final touch." Yang leaned in, until her face was barely an inch from the shorter soldier. Blood-red stare lock with his, she grinned, a toothy smile with no trace of humor left in it. "You tried to bury me alive."

Jaune went white. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, feet shuffling back in one involuntary step after another, going until he bumped against the guard standing behind him.

"Dragon," he whispered, his voice tight and just barely loud enough to be heard across the room. A tremor ran through the crowd, rippling as the people near enough to hear repeated it themselves.

"Good," Yang purred, still grinning that particularly malicious smile. "You remember me."

With a cry, Jaune raised his stolen sword, gripping it in both hands as he charged forward, his whole weight behind the point as he drove the blade right at the blonde's heart. Yang whipped aside, and the boy jerked to a halt, stopped by the dragon's bone-breaking grip, latched tight around the hilt. He struggled, pulled, and tugged, trying to get free from the vise-like hand holding him in place, but no matter what he did, the sword didn't even budge.

"I think you have something that belongs to me." Bringing her foot up and in, Yang pivoted and lashed out in a kick to the side, her foot landing right in the center of Jaune's scrawny chest. The boy went flying, sailing past the line of guards and careening into a clump of revelers too slow to get out of the way. All at once, the statues came to life, panicked screams filling the room as they clawed and pushed their way to whichever door was nearest, trampling over each other in a mad dash for escape.

Flipping her grip on the jeweled sword, Yang raised it up to the light, glancing over her treasure before lowering it back to her side. "And this would be it. Seriously, what is it with you humans and always grabbing the decorative swords?"

One of the guards, from fear or panic, broke ranks. Shouting some unintelligible cry, he rushed towards the dragon, followed by several more men breaking from the pack to bull-rush the monster who'd strolled into their house.

They made it barely a foot before Yang reared back her head, and _breathed._

Fire streamed from her mouth, plumes of heat that sent the guardsmen scattering. One group tried to come at her from the side, only for Yang to turn her head, putting a thick arc of flame between them. The guards flinched back, charred spear-hafts and warped blades falling to the ground after the flame passed over them. An unlucky few screamed and stumbled away, nursing hands seared by scalding metal or burns from getting just a little too close. Anyone foolish enough to approach was sent running, their weapons useless against that torrent of flame.

Only when Schnee's men retreated halfway down the hall did she stop, breathing heavily as she straightened. Everything around her, for a good fifteen feet, was ablaze. The rugs strewn about the floor crackled and snapped, sending embers flying about the room. One of the wine casks had caught the edge of the flame, the fire-hardened clay turned black by the sheer heat of dragonfire. A leg of the cask cracked, complained, and crumbled into ash, sending the whole jug crashing to the ground, shattering on the hard tile and spilling the dark liquid across the scorched ground. Smoke filled the air, spiraling up in dark, angry plumes that hugged the ceiling. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare, the damage left behind by the wrath of an angry dragon, and Weiss couldn't have been happier to see it.

"Normally," Yang purred, her voice a little hoarse after spewing fire about the room. "I'd be here for retribution. I don't really like people trespassing in my home." The jeweled sword looped lazily through the air, whistling as she swung it absently at her side. "But, I'm in a forgiving mood. Small suggestion? Don't let it happen again. I won't be so nice next time."

Turning on her heel, Yang put the guards behind her and strode back down the length of the hall. "So," she said, in a far softer voice, smiling over at the white-haired woman still holding her human shield in place. "Weiss, you wan-"

"Don't you dare," Jaune gurgled. His weight resting on a borrowed spear, the young man limped between them, good arm held out to shield Weiss from view. Blood poured from his broken nose, droplets flying as he tried to speak. "Don't you dare touch-"

Slamming her shoulder into the back of her hostage, Weiss shoved, sending the already off-balance man stumbling forward. The captive guardsman slammed into Jaune's back, sending him flailing. The two went crashing to the ground, landing immobile in a tangle of limbs and armor.

Stepping over the mess, Weiss made her way to the blonde woman, staring up into her thoroughly bemused face.

"You're late," Weiss growled, arms folded across her chest.

Yang grinned and shrugged, the corner of her mouth twitching as she tried to hide a smile. "Got stuck digging."

It wasn't an apology, not that Weiss had expected one. Or needed one. None of this was Yang's fault, after all. But, appearances had to be maintained, and there was no way she was going to admit that she was glad to see the other girl. Not with Yang looking far too smug already.

"So," the dragon said, tossing her hair and smiling down at the scowling princess. "You want a lift, or did you have your own plans?"

Weiss couldn't completely suppress her smile. _Cheeky little ... _"That would be-"

"Quite enough."

Weiss froze, a sinking feeling in her stomach, as she turned to face the gray-haired man standing at the far end of the hall. Taking a sip from his cup, Lord Schnee loomed over the line of guards, almost managing to appear completely disinterested. Only the spark in his eyes betrayed him, the angry glint as he glared over the goblet at the two women standing in his hall.

"Weiss," he said, his voice a throaty growl. "Do you really think, that after all this, I would let either of you just walk out of here?"

"I don't think you're gonna have much of a choice," Yang snarled back, taking a step forward that just happened to put herself in front of Weiss.

Ignoring the blonde, Lord Schnee stared at her daughter, mouth pressed in a stern, angry line. "This is your last chance. You may be my daughter, but there are limits to even my patience. Put down the sword and come here, like a good girl, or die with the monster."

Yang immediately tried to place herself more firmly between the soldiers and the princess, only to be stopped by a thin, pale hand wrapping around her arm. Stepping out from behind the dragon, Weiss stared solemnly at her father, at the man she'd spent her life trying to avoid or appease, the man who had sent her off to die without so much as a second thought.

"Yang?" she said, never looking away from the man at the back of the hall.

"Yeah?"

With one smooth motion, Weiss settled into her guard, sword raised high and pointed right at her father's chest. "If you get the chance, kill him."

Lord Schnee nodded wordlessly and turned, settling down in his seat at the head of the hall. Lifting the cup to his lips, he downed the last of his wine, tossed it aside, and snapped his fingers.

At his signal, a swarm of soldiers poured into the hall. Man after armored man streamed out of the side doors, in full battle-gear and armed to the teeth. Within seconds, a wall of shields had formed before his throne, the guards shuffling aside as a line of bowmen took their place. Marching feet, the clang of metal on metal, and the tightening of bowstrings filled the room as a veritable host arrayed itself against the two young women standing at the opposite end of the hall.

"Kill them both," he growled, sounding bored. "A boatful of gold to whoever kills the monster."

* * *

Jaune pulled himself out from beneath his fellow guardsman just in time to watch Lord Schnee lounge back in his seat, take a swig of his wine, and without so much as a tremor in his voice, order the death of his youngest daughter.

Speechless, the young man stared as the line of soldiers marched forward, the bowmen safely behind them stretching their strings as they aimed for the pair at the other end of the hall. To his surprise, the first thing the dragon did was put itself in front of the princess. Almost as if ...

_She's protecting her?_

Well, dragons _were_ greedy, covetous monsters. Their massive hoards were proof enough of that. It probably didn't want to give up a prize like Weiss. Still, if it had to choose between an arrow to the face, and keeping its princess ...

He had to do something. He couldn't just sit here, covered in spilled wine and blood. The princess was in danger, and keeping her safe was his responsibility – even if she _was_ making this whole saving business _extremely_ difficult. Especially with a father like that.

Even if Weiss gave up right then, Jaune wasn't completely sure that Lord Schnee would let her live. Not after crashing his party and embarrassing him in front of his guests.

Which left about two options, both of them awful. Either watch Weiss die right here and now, or risk condemning her to a life of brainwashed servitude to a mythical monster. Not to mention probably getting himself killed as well.

_At least she'd be alive,_ he thought, wincing as his injured leg buckled when he tried to stand.

_You wouldn't be, _the more skeptical part of him whispered back._ Not after her father gets through with you. And is 'alive' really that much better if she's being controlled by the dragon?_

_What is she's telling the truth? It _is_ protecting her._

_Right. Because giant man-eating monsters _always_ just decide to help out small, completely edible princesses._

_It's not like you have much of a choice. Watch her die, or help and probably get killed yourself._

Groaning at the stabbing pain in his side, Jaune forced himself to his feet. Turning away, he staggered back towards the wall, away from the dragon and the soldiers, and sent a silent prayer to whichever god might be listening to make sure he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *

"Okay," Yang said, her right hand clenching as she stared at the cautiously advancing soldiers. "I'll cover you while you go for the doors."

"Yes, because me running out into a crowded city surrounded by walls I can't climb and a legion of guards is a _great _idea," Weiss hissed, scowling as she stepped around the blonde. As much as she appreciated the gallantry, there was no way she was letting Yang put herself in any more danger for her sake. "On three, you spit fire at them and we both break for the doors."

"Can't."

"You can't use fire and run?"

"Can't run," Yang muttered, just loud enough for Weiss to hear. "They got lucky with the cave in."

"How lucky?" Keeping the soldiers in the corner of her eye, the princess glanced over at the other woman. Now that she mentioned it, Yang's arm looked less 'casually resting across sword hilt' than 'actually slung across her hilt.' Her breaths were short and shallow, and a long purple bruise peeked out over the top of her tunic.

"I've got one good arm, a few broken ribs, and my leg is killing me after kicking that blond twit."

"If you're injured, why would you do it?"

"Because it looked _awesome_," the dragon grinned, wincing a little at the furious scowl Weiss sent her way. "Plus, the catharsis was worth it."

"Can you still fly?"

"Short distances. It'll take me a moment to transform though."

Weiss cursed under her breath and gripped the hilt of her sword a little tighter. It could be worse. At least Yang was alive – even if there was a good chance of them not making it through the night. "Fine. I'll cover you while you transform. Then you fly us out of here."

"Because human skin is just _great_ at blocking arrows," Yang's voice was a dry as Weiss'. "If anyone's doing the covering, it's me."

"Dammit Yang, we don't have tim-"

A mammoth crash resounded through the room as one of the large clay jugs of oil shattered against the floor. Olive oil flew everywhere, soaking into the carpets and causing the still-burning flames to leap where it fell.

Looking over, Weiss found Jaune, spear propped under one arm, wrestling with another of the containers, desperately trying to haul it off its stand. Bracing himself against the wall, he pushed, injured leg barely able to hold his weight. The cauldron wobbled for a second, held its ground, then fell, cracking into a hundred pieces and spilling the yellow-green oil over to floor to seep into the

"What does he think he's-"

"Yang," Weiss cut her off, darting for the nearest pillar. "Fire. Now."

The princess ducked as the first bowman loosed his arrow and whipped behind the tall column. A chipping sound warned her how close it had been, a thin chunk of marble falling down to the floor from where the arrow had knocked it loose. Hoping none of the archers had drawn a bead on her, she peeked around the opposite side, yanking her head back as a bronze-tipped arrow flew an inch past her nose. Ducking down, she skidded out from the pillar, slipping and sliding across the wine-soaked floor and trying to make herself as small a target as possible.

Arrows thudded across the room as she ran, piercing tables, pillars, the odd statue – pretty much anything Weiss managed to put between herself and them. One brief look over her shoulder showed a sweating and gasping Yang, swatting arrows out of the air and snarling before letting loose another burst of flame. Jaune had managed to knock a third jug over and was working on his fourth, the yellow-green liquid pooling in the center of the hall. Anything touched by Yang's breath had burst into flames, the oil serving as more fuel for the fires, keeping them burning long after she ran out of air.

Putting everything she had into one last run, Weiss ran for the large jugs set against the wall, ducking as an arrow glanced off the wall, leaving a notch in the plaster at exactly the height of her head. From her new hiding spot, she watched as Jaune knocked the last amphora on its side and started staggering for the door.

"Did you really think a little flame would be enough to stop my men?" Lord Schnee called from the other end of the room. He was right; the soldiers just kept coming, stomping out fires where they could, and doing their best to shield themselves from Yang's breath. The fire was slowing them down, but as soon as the dragonfire ran out, there'd be little left to stop them. _And Yang's not looking too good._

Staying as far behind cover as she could, Weiss raised the nearest jug, filled with fresh spring water for her father's guests, and threw.

The jug slammed into one of the decorative pillars, shattering the thick clay and sending water spraying everywhere. The oil fires exploded the second the water touched it, rising up into one massive wall of flame. Guards and soldiers alike leapt back, the unlucky ones screaming as the blaze hit. Getting ready to dive for cover, Weiss tossed her last jug out into the room, watching as the spray sank into the oil, sending atomized droplets into the air and turning the middle of the hall into one giant, dragon-assisted fireball.

"Yang, _now_!"

Rearing back her head, Yang spewed a line of flame out across the floor, aiming right for the massive pool of oil in the center of the hall. The dragonfire slammed into the more mundane fires, sucking in the air as the flames climbed halfway to the ceiling, boosted far beyond Weiss' expectations by the magic lying in Yang's blood. With one last breath, the dragon let out a massive fireball that flew right to the other end of the hall, and exploded atop the Lord's chair.

The twang of bowstrings split the air, and Weiss flinched away, waiting for the feeling of barbed arrowheads piercing her side. Instead, the sound of metal on scales hit her ears, only for the princess to find herself yanked bodily up into the air, long coils of flesh and scale wrapped tightly around her. Weiss gasped as the breath was knocked from her lungs, coughing when smoke from the fire hit her mouth. Tears streaming from her eyes, she was just barely able to see the room whip past as Yang barreled out the main doors, spiraling up into the night sky, her golden scales glinting in the light of the inferno left behind them.

Once she could breathe again, Weiss wiped her eyes and slammed her hand into the dragon's scaled side, yelling through the wind. Getting the hint, Yang slowed down, pulling her tail in and settling Weiss between her shoulder blades. Gripping tight to the scaled hide, Weiss laid her head against Yang's back and closed her eyes, waiting for her heart to stop racing.

"Are you hurt?" she managed, once she was relatively certain she wasn't in danger of a heart attack.

"I'm fine." Yang shouted back, spiraling once before angling right for the edge of city.

Staring down past Yang's side, Weiss looked down at the city, at the massive beacon of light that was her father's hall, the fire they'd left behind still burning cheerfully. Little lights were spreading all over the city as watchmen and citizens heard the alarm just now beginning to sound, sounding the bell-toll for a fire in the city. Small figures scrambled in packs through the streets, going to help, or just to watch as the palace burned. Everyone was headed to the bright light, except for one small figure hobbling against the current of people, a charred spear-haft in hand as he limped away.

_I wonder if Yang has one more fireball left in her_, Weiss thought, glaring down at Jaune as he moved beneath them, before deciding that it really wasn't worthy of her. She settled for imaging him trying to hobble his way out past the guards at the gate, and exactly what explanation he would have to use for his injuries, not to mention the smoke stains and the burn marks.

_Assuming they don't just arrest him on the spot and have him executed._

...

... _I am definitely going to regret this._

"Yang," she called, managing to sound reluctant even while shouting over the wind. Looking back, Yang met her eyes, then followed her pointing finger, down to the limping man below.

"Really?"

"Just do it," Weiss called back, already regretting her decision. "Please?"

With a very human eye roll, Yang banked and dived back down towards the city. Rolling to fit between the buildings, she barreled down the road, arms outstretched. A high-pitched shriek split the air as her talons wrapped around the blonde boy's midsection, hauling him up into the air as she climbed up and out over the wall and sailed into the moonlit night.

The screams took a good five minutes to die down, helped along by Weiss shouting over the rush of the wind for him to shut up, and several shakes of Yang's talons that were probably more violent than necessary. The rest of the trip passed in near total silence, conversation thankfully stopped by the air rushing past their ears. Halfway to the cave, Yang banked, dropping down to skim just above the trees before coming out over what looked like a rather large farm. Barely slowing down, she opened her claws, unceremoniously sending the newly-screaming Jaune thudding into a haystack.

With their burden gone, Yang slowed, flapping languidly as she pushed on, headed back to the mountain where she'd hidden Weiss after the first time she'd rescued her. Now that they weren't going at breakneck speed, Weiss could feel every wince in the dragon's side as the pumps of her wings put pressure on her ribs, and see the way her left foreleg hung awkwardly in the air. Closing her eyes in sympathy, she pressed herself more firmly against the scaled back, unable to do anything more than hope they made it back before Yang managed to hurt herself any more.

She needn't have worried. Yang's mountain retreat loomed before them within minutes, a jagged crag of shadows against the paler coast and the wine-dark sea. Rather than looping around and landing back at the cave mouth, Yang climbed, rising halfway up the side of the mountain before coming to a halt at a ragged, sloppily-made opening. Folding her wings, she flowed into the hole, winding down through the darkness before coming out high above the reservoir at the base of the mountain.

Lowering herself to the ground, Yang stumbled and fell, skidding into the dirt as one of her hind legs collapsed beneath her. Hopping off her back, Weiss scampered around to look in the dragon's face, breathing a sigh of relief when she found her conscious.

"Dammit Yang, you're hurt," Weiss swore as she looked over the golden creature. Several arrows jutted out from the thin membranes of her wings, and from the way Yang twitched every time she breathed, Weiss guessed she'd managed to re-injure her ribs.

Something halfway between a chuckle and a groan issued from the dragon's mouth. "So _that's_ where the pain and blood was coming from."

Weiss rolled her eyes. Just what she needed. A smug, _smartass_ dragon.

"I meant more than you told me." Climbing around to the side of Yang's wing, she worked her way over to one of the arrows. "We could have stopped."

"No way in hell," Yang growled, wincing as Weiss touched the arrow shaft.

"I'm sorry, but this has to come out." As carefully as she could, Weiss broke the feathered end off, leaving just the thin shaft embedded in the wing.

"Don't worry, Princess. The cave-in only got my left legs. I'm _alright_."

Hands grasped around the arrow, Weiss glared over at the sheepishly grinning lizard. "... seriously?"

"Sorry," Yang said, hissing as Weiss pushed the arrow through the membrane of her wing. "I get punny when I'm bleeding out."

"You're hardly 'bleeding out.'" Breaking the feathers off the next arrow, Weiss pulled as gently as she could, sliding the rest out through the hole. At least the tear looked relatively clean, and a quick look at the arrow showed straight, sharp edges along the head. That was good; the cleaner the cut, the faster it would heal.

Yang winced and growled as the next shaft came free. "Well, guess we're off to a _rocky_ start."

Weiss wasn't nearly as gentle with the next one.

The dragon actually whined as the arrow came free, her tail thrashing as the talons on her good arm clenched. "I'm impressed, Weiss. You're getting _boulder_ by the minute."

"... I am perfectly capable of putting these back in, you know."

"Tou-chy," Yang growled, lowering her head back to the earth. "Your bedside manner sucks, by the way."

"Maybe it's my subtle way of telling you not to get hurt again."

"Aww. Worried about little old me?"

"Yes, you moron!" Weiss snapped, hands still grasping the last arrow. "Especially considering that I spent the last few days tied up, trying my best to escape, and doing everything I could to convince myself that you weren't dead, you insufferable, annoying, smug, obnoxious little-"

Whatever Yang was, Weiss never got a chance to say it. A heavy, scaled head bumped into her side, and Weiss looked down to find two big, purple eyes staring up at her.

"Weiss, I am really, really glad you're okay."

"... me too, oaf." With a sigh, Weiss broke the last arrow and slid it free. Tossing it with the others, she plopped herself down, too tired to care about the dirt staining her clothes. Head in her hands, she stared blankly into the rock-lined pools that decorated the bottom of the cave, peering through the shadowed chamber into the shallow, swirling water.

"Could you turn human?" she finally asked. "For a moment, at least?"

The dragon turned to look at her, one eye propped open. "... it takes a lot of energy."

"Please?"

With a groan, Yang pushed herself up on her good legs, light wrapping around her form before dissolving into a tall, muscled, and inevitably naked blonde balancing her weight on one leg and leaning against the wall.

"So what did y-"

Before Yang could finish, Weiss wrapped her arms around the blonde's sides, holding her as tightly as she dared, her face buried against the taller girl's tanned shoulder.

"Beat me to the punch," Yang chuckled, wincing as one of the arms pressed against her injured side. "Watch the ribs."

The princess' arms loosened slightly, but she stayed right there, pressed against Yang, who made it a point _not_ to notice the shaking in the girl's shoulders. Turning slightly in her grip, Yang wrapped her one good arm around Weiss's back, her hand slowly stroking down the long white hair.

"You know," Yang drawled, once the trembling had died down. "It is possible to hug me when I'm not magicked into a human."

"I'm aware," the princess said, her voice just as dry. "That's not why I asked you to change."

"Then why-"

Without warning, a pale hand latched onto Yang's chin. Standing on tiptoe, Weiss closed her eyes and pulled the blonde's mouth down to hers, straining to stand as tall as she could and hold the kiss. For a second, Yang stiffened, and Weiss worried that she might have put more pressure on the taller girl's injuries. Then the dragon leaned forward, letting Weiss settle back on the balls of her feet, and one large hand carded its way through ivory tresses to cup the back of her head. She smelled of ash and fire, tasted like smoke, and Weiss couldn't bring herself to care.

When the princess finally broke away, her face was red, even in the dim light of the cave. "That's a lot harder to do when you're four times my size."

Yang just blinked, eyes wide and locked on the petite girl still pressed against her chest.

"... fair enough."

* * *

**So, here we are at the end of Act I of **_**The Princess and the Dragon**_**. Hopefully everyone enjoyed it so far. I'd like to do a short act-epilogue, but that'll have to wait until after RTX.**

**Now, for those who've been asking, yes, I ****will**** be continuing the story. There's another story arc I'd like to do, but there's a few things I need to get done first (like another chapter of **_**Premium Well**_**) and I'd like to build up a bit of a buffer ahead of time.**

**Things that people have been asking about that maaay show up:**

**IF**** Ruby shows up, it would not be a **_**completely**_** ridiculous guess that she **_**might**_** be a dragon.**

**Yes, there will be more magic, and I'll make the rules for it and everything clearer.**

**Other RWBY characters will show, including Pyrrha – I found a design for her that I **_**really**_** like.**

**So, until next time, thank you all for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing. ****Please**** leave a comment if you can. I **_**really**_** want to know what people thought of this chapter, and if you **_**want**_** to try to convince me of what other characters should show up (some have already tried, especially for Ruby), you're more than welcome to.**


	10. Interlude: A Dragon and her Queen

**Interlude: A Dragon and her Queen**

"What in the world is this?"

Yang looked up from the pile of weapons to see what Weiss was staring at. It could have been anything, really – they were still only halfway through cleaning out the lower caves of her lair. Everything was a mess, with weapons and treasure lying haphazardly around the room, little bits and pieces of her horde shattered or broken in the cave-in caused when Weiss' father sent his men to bury the dragon alive.

Even with all the entrances closed, Yang wanted this done as fast as possible. The sooner they had everything gathered, sorted through what she could fix and what wasn't worth trying to, the sooner they could leave. Yang hated the idea of people knowing where her lair was – especially those who had shown themselves quite willing to put their princess' life in danger to kill a dragon.

Side-stepping the broken pile of chests, Yang found Weiss in the back of the chamber, staring at the rear wall. Racking her brain to remember what she'd left there, Yang joined her, then smiled. A massive throne sat against the back wall, made from gold-washed iron. The back curved up, decorated with little gilt laurel leaves and depictions of hunters stalking boar and deer through the trees, spears flying up the sides of the great chair. Even with a layer of dirt from the cave-in, it still gleamed, only a few pebbles resting on the velvet cushion.

Yang was just amazed it was still intact. So many other things had been shattered or crushed by the falling rocks, but somehow the throne had dodged the worst of it.

"You like?" Yang asked, running a hand over the throne's back. "I picked it up from a ship out east."

"_How_ did you get this?"

Yang shrugged. "Their king told his archers to try and shoot me down. I didn't want to hurt them, so I took it to teach him a lesson."

Weiss shook her head in disbelief. "And you kept it?"

"What? It's pretty. Never quite fit me though – turns out the king was a little on the shorter side." Grinning, Yang turned to the shorter girl. "Might fit you though?"

The princess look up at her in disbelief. "You want me to sit in it? It's covered in dust."

"Come on," Yang wheedled, holding out one hand for Weiss to take. "It'll be fun."

Sighing, Weiss took her skirts in one hand and stepped forward, taking Yang's hand and let the blonde draw her up into the chair. There she settled, her chin high with a regal tilt, looking down her nose at the smiling dragon.

_She really does look like a queen_, Yang mused.

Swirling her arms in an exaggerated bow, she knelt down on one knee before the throne. "Is this the part where I swear my undying loyalty? Pledge my life and love in your service till the end of my days?"

Weiss snorted and delicately rose from the chair, heading back to sort through the stack of swords, saving both the trouble of answering.

_Still, _Yang thought, rising as she went to join her princess. _That really wouldn't be all that bad._

* * *

_**And here's a little bit extra. Not canon for the AU, but I thought people might enjoy it.**_

**Omake**

"I understand the whole sleep talking thing," Yang said, kicking her feet back and forth. "But what I don't understand is the princess and dragon dream and why I'm in it."

Weiss went beet red. It was lucky she had her head down, and that Yang was staring absently at the ceiling from her bed. She was already embarrassed enough after the blonde caught her muttering in her sleep.

And of _course, _the one time Yang heard her, it would be _that _dream. The one where Yang swooped down out of the sky and rescued her from a raving mob. The one where ...

Weiss rolled over so Yang couldn't see her face. This was humiliating enough. The _last _thing she needed was Yang finding out it was _that_ kind of dream.

"I mean, I can see you being a princess." Yang said, oblivious to the glare Weiss shot her. "And ancient Mistral makes sense. We did just go over that in Port's class. "

"It's a dream, Yang. It's not supposed to make sense."

Yang shrugged and stopped kicking her feet. "Okay, then can you explain why you kept saying my name?"

Weiss pulled the blankets up to her nose. Maybe if she just stayed quiet, Yang would take the hint. Maybe she'd give up. Maybe ...

_Maybe pigs would fly._

Weiss felt her bed dip as Yang hopped down onto the edge. Weiss ignored her. Engaging Yang would only encourage her.

"Come on. We both know you'll eventually tell me." Yang teased, bouncing slightly. "Or I suppose I could tell Blake what _really _happened to her tea set."

"Blackmailer," Weiss growled.

Yang just shrugged and grinned. Knowing defeat when she saw it, Weiss sighed and kept her eyes trained on the wall.

"I was in danger and this dragon saved me. It's not that complicated."

"And the swearing? I didn't think you even knew some of those words."

"Shut up," Weiss snapped. "My father, in the dream ... he tried to make me marry someone. Anyway, I fought him, got away, and that's when I woke up."

Yang stayed quiet for a long while. Weiss didn't meet her eyes – she already had a good idea what was going through her head. That this was one of the few times Weiss had _ever_ spoken about her father. That his dream version had tried again and again to lock her away and marry her off to a man she despised. Freud would have a field day with something like that.

"So," Yang finally said after a minute. "I helped you kick his ass?"

"More or less."

Yang's smile had little humor in it. "Good. So what was I? A hoplite? Ooh, did I have armor like Pyrrha's?" Grinning again, Yang struck a pose, trying to look like one off the old Mistralan warriors. "Did I have a spear or did I go all sword-and-board?"

Weiss opened her mouth, then closed it again. It would be so easy to tell Yang she'd been some barely-armored amazon, bashing skulls and taking names. She'd eat it up, and all Weiss would have to put up with was Yang making amazon puns for the next week and a half. All in all, it didn't sound so bad.

Still ... she didn't want to lie to Yang.

Sighing, Weiss turned, satisfied that her face was back to its normal color. "You were the dragon, moron."

Yang blinked. "Oh." She blinked again. "_Oooh_."

"Can you say something other than 'oh,' or is that the extent of your vocabulary?"

Yang ignored the jab and scooted closer on the bed. "So, you had a dream where I saved you from a mob and helped you beat up your jackass of a dad."

"... yes."

"And I was this big, majestic dragon."

"And _this_ is why I didn't want to tell you."

Yang snorted, but at least that shut her up for a while. It was a good two, maybe three minutes before she nudged Weiss' shoulder. "Hey, Weiss."

"What?"

"How long have you had a thing for me?"

"... long enough."

"Hmm." She went uncharacteristically quiet again. Her grin was gone, replaced by a calm, thoughtful look Weiss couldn't read, no matter how much she tried.

"You wanna head in to Vale tomorrow? Grab dinner?"

Weiss sat upright, her mouth working soundlessly before it snapped shut. Scowling furiously at the taller girl, she said, "Yang Xiao Long, you are the least romantic person I have ever met."

"That a no?"

"... no."

Yang smiled, swept the hair from her face, and kissed her cheek. However bad Weiss' blush had been before, it was nothing compared to now. Fortunately, Yang chose that moment to studiously examine the ropes holding Ruby's bed above her own.

"So ... Weiss," she said when the heiress could face her again.

"Yes, Yang?"

"In the dream," Yang started, her mouth splitting in a wide, infuriating grin. "Did you ride 'the dragon'?"

* * *

**Author's Note: If you can, please take the time to leave a review – it lets me know what the reader response is and whether or not I should do more stuff along the lines of whatever I've posted.**

**To be clear, this is **_**not**_** the epilogue that I've been planning. It was just something that I whipped up in response to a prompt I got in my tumblr – so if you like this, you have Makas0ul to thank for it. If you'd like to send similar prompts, you can find me at **_**redsuitwriter. **_**Just search 'writing prompts' on my blog and go to town (AO3 users can click the link here). Any of the prompts is fair game.**


	11. Interlude: Dragon Rider

**Author's Note: As a reminder, uncensored versions of my stories can be found on my profile on AO3.**

* * *

**Interlude – Dragon Rider**

"Ow!" Yang snapped, cringing under Weiss' hands. "Careful. Skin's a lot more sensitive than scales." She winced again as Weiss cleaned another sensitive cut, her own fingers knotted in the tunic pulled down to her waist, squeezing tight as she braced herself for the next stabbing pain.

Weiss rolled her eyes, then pulled the bloodstained cloth away and cleaned it in the basin at her side. She sighed, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the cavern, across the layered pools they had made in the floor. Her eyes on the basin, she swirled the cloth in the water and wrung it out, the water dripping down and matching the occasional drop from the stalactites that lined the ceiling. A touch more gentle, she pressed it against another wound on Yang's back.

"Maybe you should take your own advice," she said and wiped away a bit more of the dirt and blood. "You're the one who nearly caused a cave in because you _had_ to see if a statue was intact."

Yang grimaced. Weiss had a point. After Schnee's men caused the first cave-in, the upper sections of her soon-to-be former lair were unstable at best. The lower levels, especially the pools, were safe. They were far enough down that the only sign that anything changed was a little dust knocked from the cave roof. That was why Yang insisted on moving their bedding down to the dry area along one wall. She wasn't going to risk Weiss' fragile human neck by sleeping in one of the treasure rooms.

The problem, and the reason she had been caught in another cave-in, was her hoard. Half of it was buried beneath stone and dirt, wrecked or ruined or buried by the antics of a possessive, abusive king. That still rankled her. For that alone, she would have happily descended on the Atlesian city-state in all her draconic splendor. A dragon's hoard was sacrosanct, something you touched only at very great peril. Some dragons might have burned the whole city to the ground for that kind of offense. Others would have ravaged the palace until every member of the royal family was dead, until the citizens and every noble for league understood the message – that dragons are not to be trifled with.

Yang wasn't _that_ vengeful. She _would _have knocked down a good chunk of the palace in revenge ... after making enough noise for everyone to evacuate to safety. Maybe grabbed as much as she could carry from the treasury, just to replace what they ruined. But she'd never seen the value in terrorizing commoners just because their nobles misbehaved.

Her injuries and Weiss' safety were the only reasons she left the palace relatively intact, minus one well-charred grand hall. If she hadn't been hurt, if Weiss didn't need her protection ... there might not be much of the palace let standing. Not that it mattered. Either way, Lord Schnee was gone now. A scorched pile of ash and flinders that was probably more inspiring and useful than he had ever been in life. Still, she couldn't help but feel a surge of rage every time she saw another ruined cavern, another mangled part of her collection.

"It was important," she mumbled and hissed as Weiss applied the cloth again.

Those statues were irreplaceable. She didn't know if she could ever find those artists again, and even if she could, the pieces wouldn't be the same. She traded sections of her hoard to commission them during her travels, even posed in one sculptor's garden for days while he chiseled his depiction of the golden dragon. That had been her favorite piece, the marble dragon coiled with jaws outstretched, life-like and looking as it could breathe fire at any second.

For days, Yang dreaded looking into that chamber. She knew the marble wouldn't have survived the cave-in, but until she checked there was still some spark of hope. Some small chance that maybe they survived. Or at least her favorite had.

By the time she finally forced herself to check, she was so worked up that she didn't notice the weakened ceiling. To add insult to injury, it even waited to collapse until _after_ she learned that every item in that room was ruined. She wasn't that badly hurt, not by a few rocks, but the impact re-opened her wounds from the first cave-in.

When Weiss found her by the pools, trying to wash off the worst of the blood and dust, she was livid.

"If it was that important," the princess growled and pressed hard against one of the worst cuts. "You should have brought me."

Yang shook her head, her teeth grinding. It had hurt less when rocks fell on her. "You know those caves aren't safe."

"Which is why you shouldn't be up there either!"

The dragon almost roared when Weiss pressed even harder against the wound on her shoulder. That was a bad one. Most of her injuries had already started to heal – it was one of the upsides of being a dragon. But the deeper wounds, the fractures from the rockfall, were still tender. _That _one was where one of her wings had been torn. Even in her human form, it ached constantly. She still wasn't able to sleep on her back, not without stabbing pains shooting through her.

"Dammit Weiss, that hurts!" Yang snapped. She turned to face the princess, her eyes two angry slits of red, only to find Weiss already wringing the blood out into the basin.

The princess' eyes were hard beneath her pale brows. "If you don't like it, don't ask me to help patch you up."

_I didn't, _the dragon thought bitterly, reaching back to brush her wounded shoulder. She winced when another lance of pain shot through her. _You insisted._

Weiss drew the cloth from the basin, and saw the look on Yang's face. Their eyes met for a moment, just a moment, and Weiss was the first one to look away. She took a breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the ice-blue pools had melted a little, losing some of their hardness when she met Yang's stare again.

"I am sorry. I'll be more careful."

She moved closer, waiting to see if Yang would stop her, then squeezed the water onto the wound. Yang braced for another surge of agony, but none came. There was a twinge of discomfort when Weiss ran the cloth across the skin, but no pain. Grumbling under her breath, Yang settled back onto the rock, hunched over so the shorter woman could reach her back.

"So," Yang said, unable to keep the resentment from her voice. She still hadn't forgiven her for that last one. "What's your next move?"

"... excuse me?"

"Hey, you're the one who said she just wanted to stay for a little while. Least till you had a real plan." Yang shifted in her place on the floor. "So, what is it? You going off to Vale? Mistral? Any of a dozen cities? You have to be tired of slumming in a cave by now."

Weiss didn't answer. Yang looked back, to see a small frown crossing the princess' face.

In silence, Weiss finished cleaning her wounds and wrung the cloth one last time into the basin. Lifting the bowl with both hands, she moved over to the lowest pool in the cave and poured it out, watching as the pink-tinted water flowed down and out of the cave.

"I can't help set up your new lair if I leave, now can I?" she said, her voice low. Her hair fell down across her face, hiding it from view.

"You're staying?"

"It's not like I have a choice," Weiss snapped, her brows lowering into a scowl before she caught herself. Taking another breath, she sat down on the ground and pulled her knees up to her chest, an odd look on her face. "I owe you after my father ruined your home."

"No you don't," Yang said flatly. _Seriously, what is up with her?_

"I do not like being in anyone's debt, Yang." The words came slowly. They were firm, determined, but there was no trace of the anger from before. "I'm staying, at least until your new home is in order. Unless you _want_ me gone. Although without me, you'd probably just throw your horde into one room and call it a night."

Yang blinked. None of this made sense. Weiss didn't owe her anything – not for saving her that first time and definitely not for Yang arriving at the palace. Schnee kidnapped a guest from her home, a _dragon's_ home. Only a sorry excuse for a dragon would let that slide.

She opened her mouth to ask, then stopped. Whatever was going on, there was no way Weiss would tell her. And ten-to-one, asking her would just annoy the white-haired woman more. _Why does she always have to be so ... infuriating?_

"Any chance of that debt going towards you not half-killing me when you bandage me up?" she asked instead. She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice. Weiss was obviously making an attempt to stay calm. She might as well show her the same courtesy.

"Not when you nearly kill _yourself_."

Yang rolled her eyes. She stood and stretched, cringing when her sore shoulder ached.

"... I am sorry about your shoulder." Weiss was still looking into the pool, her head on her knees. "I didn't ... I _don't _want to hurt you."

The dragon stopped to look her, her brows furrowed. In the few weeks they had known each other, she could count the number of times Weiss actually apologized on one hand. She didn't know if it was a side effect of being raised a princess or just her own stubbornness, but Weiss rarely admitted fault. _And she just did twice in about a minute. That's definitely not like her._

Growling under her breath, Yang flopped down by the water, outstretched feet just barely brushing the surface of their washing pool. She left several inches of space between them; she wasn't sure what Weiss wanted right now. She could give her space, wait to see if the princess closed the gap. Or maybe this was some silent, strange, human call for comfort – although what she should comfort _her _for, for, Yang didn't know.

Her father, maybe? Weiss hadn't mentioned anything about him. _You'd think that she would say something_, Yang thought. _If she was really that torn up over his death. _Or maybe it wasn't about that. Maybe–

"Are you going to put your clothes back on?" the princess asked, still facing the water.

Yang looked down and remembered she had left her tunic gathered around her waist. "Why does me being covered matter so much to you?" she grumbled, shoving one arm through the sleeve.

"... haven't you spent time around normal people?"

"Look, I know a lot of you have this weird complex about clothes." She pulled the rest of the tunic up to her neck and fumbled with the ties until they pulled tight. "I tolerate it around humans. I'm just not used to doing it my own home."

Weiss glanced over at her, saw she was decent, then looked back into the water. "You being naked ... it's distracting. And uncomfortable." Sighing, she lowered her knees, moving until she had her feet tucked beneath her. "You don't have to, I suppose. It is just a gut reaction, I'll learn to live with it."

Yang snorted. Weiss 'learning to live' with anything would be a sight to see. "You should try it," she joked. Her voice was harsh; her shoulder was still aching from Weiss' 'healing' hands. "Might actually enjoy something for once."

Weiss was quiet for so long, Yang actually considered apologizing for what she'd said. For the most part, the princess _had_ tried to help her. Maybe she was just a bad nurse. If so, it wasn't really her fault; she might not have meant to hurt Yang the way she had.

Yang's teeth worried at her lip as she tried to decide what to say. She turned to look back at the other pools, watching as the water flowed from one to the other, cascading down until it flowed out through the waterway at the bottom.

Lost in thought, it took her a while to notice the sound of cloth rustling and water lapping at the sides of the pool. Turning around, she found Weiss with her back to her. She stood in the center of the bathing pool, completely naked, covered only by the water and the cascade of white hair that trickled down her back. Even that wasn't enough to hide the curves that peeked out from above the waterline, pale flesh plain to see beneath the crystal-clear water.

One arm held to cover her chest, Weiss turned back towards the dragon. She was scowling, but her cheeks were pink, her lips a tight thin line as she looked at the dragon. _She's embarrassed, _Yang thought, trying not to chuckle. _After everything, she's embarrassed about me seeing her like this. _

Weiss met her eyes and held them, her scowl only getting deeper the longer the dragon stared. "Are you going to just sit there and watch, or are you going to join me?"

"Yeah," Yang grinned and walked towards the water. "I think I can manage that."

Her tunic was easy to slip out of, and even easier to dump onto the ground in a puddle of cotton. Lowering her herself onto her knees, she leaned her head down next to the pool and _breathed. _Within seconds, steam began to rise from the water's edge. A few more breaths and the whole pool was heated, the gentle current spreading the heat out through the rest of the water.

The warmth slid into her as she lowered herself into the pool. The wound on her shoulder ached from the movement, then eased as the warm water touched her. She smiled. She'd always loved the heat – she was a dragon after all.

Yang was tall enough that the water didn't even reach to her hips. Easing herself down, she sat in the pool, water lapping against her breasts, and closed her eyes to bask in the warmth. It was heaven, seeping down into her very bones. She didn't open her eyes again until the water stirred. Looking up, she found the princess standing above her, one arm still clutched protectively over her chest, her face even redder than before.

Yang cocked an eyebrow. If her face was that red, maybe the water was too warm. She'd tried to keep it from getting too hot, by human standards. Maybe she misjudged the heat?

"If you say anything," Weiss growled. "I'll stop."

"Stop wha-"

Without a scrap of warning, Weiss leaned down and pressed her lips to Yang's. The blonde blinked, caught off-guard and trying to remember exactly what she was supposed to do. Before she knew it, Weiss was atop her, forcing Yang to lean back to give her room to move. One arm still over her chest, she pushed forward and slid one hand into the mass of blonde hair, gently carding through it.

Weiss' lips were cool, something Yang set about fixing immediately, reaching up to grip her shoulders. Weiss trembled, almost enough to make Yang let go, then pressed even closer, her tongue flicking out to run across Yang's lips.

"You taste strange," Weiss said when they separated, her voice soft and low.

"Sorry."

"I didn't say it was bad." She pulled Yang to her again, keeping one hand on the back of the dragon's neck, an odd look on her face. Her eyes kept darting between Yang's, then down to her mouth, shifting between half-lidded and wanting to a wide-eyed look Yang didn't recognize.

"Keep going and you're gonna give a girl ideas," Yang growled, running her own fingers through Weiss' hair.

"Oaf." Weiss kissed the corner of her mouth briefly, her forehead resting against Yang's. "That's the point of this."

"Weiss ... you know doing this a second time isn't gonna make you any _more_ immune to virgin sacrifices, right?" Yang asked. "That boat's kinda sailed."

Weiss gave her a scowl that could peel paint from a jar.

"That _was_ a joke," Yang said and pulled back slightly, until she could look at Weiss properly. She still – _still! – _had her arm across her chest, pressing between them as she half-lay atop her. "Look, if you're doing this because I rescued you again..."

"Yang, I'm doing this because right now, I just _want_ to. That's it. No other reasons." She stopped and sighed, something flickering across her face that Yang couldn't read. "I just, I _need_ to not feel alone right now. It's selfish and if you're not up for that, I won't blame you. But if you are ... don't give me a reason to stop."

The dragon blinked, taken aback by how open and honest Weiss was being. That ... that was new. It wasn't like Yang was a stranger to sex, and certainly not with humans; she was more than old enough in human terms to have spent the night with several someones who had no romantic attachments. But she'd never thought Weiss would want that. It hadn't been a possibility she ever considered – that Weiss would want her for this and this alone.

"So right now," she said, running one hand over a pale shoulder. "You just need someone to be with you."

"Not _anyone_. I do have standards."

"Which I apparently meet."

"Are you going to do this or not?" Weiss snapped. Her eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between violet irises with a searching look, waiting, wanting ... something.

Yang bit the inside of her cheek. So, Weiss just needed release, a moment of bliss after everything that had happened. She _had_ watched her own father order her death – that couldn't be the kind of thing someone forgot. It made sense, needing some sort of intimacy after a tragedy.

I wasn't quite what Yang wanted, but ... well, it was a start anyway. And this wasn't about her. This was about Weiss, about the princess practically sitting on her lap with eyes pleading for an answer. It would be cruel to turn her away, to deny her this after everything that had happened.

"Alright," Yang said and kissed her. Just this, for tonight. Anything else could come later. When they had time, when they were safe and not living in a half-destroyed remnant of the home Yang had brought her to. When Atlas was forgotten and far behind them.

Tonight, she was gonna make Weiss as happy as she possibly could.

* * *

Weiss woke in the middle of the night to find Yang pressed into her back. She was warm, even with only one thin sheet over the both of them, with a satisfying ache that pulsed deep in her core.

Moving slow to keep from waking the dragon, Weiss pushed herself up to get a good look at the cuts on Yang's back. Most were already closed, just leaving a few lines of pink on her skin. Her shoulder was bruised and had turned a nasty purple, but at least the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

_You scared me half to death, you idiot, _Weiss thought as she laid back down. _Going up to those caves alone ..._

Sometimes she couldn't quite believe how moronic the dragon could be. Putting her own life in danger for a stupid statue, asking Weiss where she was headed next. _Honestly, what is _wrong_ with her? _

Careful not to wake her, she tucked herself against the dragon's chest, fingers gently caressing the blonde's sides. She was warm, too warm, warmer than any normal human could be without burning up. It was like sleeping beside a hearth or lying in the sun in the midst of summer, warm and welcoming, although Weiss preferred Yang's soft skin to heated bricks.

About to settle down, she stopped, and glanced up at Yang one more time. The blonde dragon was dead to the world, her mouth slightly open in a way that made Weiss want to kiss it. She almost did, then realized it would wake the sleeping creature.

Weiss blinked and looked away._ She's already done so much for me. I won't wake her now._

Checking one last time that she was really asleep, Weiss edged forward and laid her chin against the curve of Yang's breasts. They were everything hers weren't – full and heavy and so warm against her skin that electricity shot down her spine.

Wrapping one arm around Yang's back, she settled in and closed her eyes, surrounded by warmth, and feeling safe for the first time in days.

_Of course I'm going to stay._

* * *

**Author's Note: If you can, PLEASE take the time to leave a review – it lets me know what the reader response is and whether or not I should do more stuff along the lines of whatever I've posted.**

**So, HERE is the interlude I was promising. Sorry about the wait, but hopefully people will enjoy it. Thanks to everyone who has read this, and hopefully, time and schedule willing, I'll be able to do the second arc involving Ruby soon. **


	12. A New Adventure

**Author's Note: As always, uncensored version of my works can be found on AO3.**

* * *

**A New Adventure**

When Weiss opened her eyes, Yang was still sound asleep beside her. The dragon had barely moved during the night, the only change Weiss could see was Yang's arm now lying limply over her side. Everything was warm and comfortable around her, a pocket of heat that made her loathe the idea of sliding out from beneath Yang's arm. So instead, Weiss cuddled closer, pushing her face more firmly against the shoulder that had been her pillow through the night.

For a long moment, she just lay there, looking up at the sleeping dragon's face, listening to the soft hiss of breath as Yang's chest rose and fell.

_This completely unfair_, she thought, eyes narrowing as she glared peevishly up at Yang. _She doesn't even have to do anything, and I'm already climbing into her arms._

Growing up at her father's palace, Weiss had always known how her life would turn out. She would be married off, for one political alliance or another, most likely to the heir of a neighboring city. Or one of Atlas' trading partners. Or perhaps as some sort of peace treaty. But one way or another, she knew she would one day find herself in charge of the household of some monarch or lordling, responsible for the servants and the household staff, supporting her spouse in the act of governing whatever territory they ruled.

It was a future she dreaded. A life she wanted nothing to do with.

Instead, she had dreamed of a life beyond her city's walls. Of travel and new lands, of experiencing the sort of adventures the court storytellers and poets spoke of. For one short summer, she dreamed of becoming an Amazon, joining that distant society of female warriors. She dreamed of hunts and battles, of far-off lands and peoples, but deep down, she always knew what would eventually be her fate.

But now ... now that future was gone. Destroyed by a superstitious mob and a protective dragon.

She had no dowry, no marriage prospects, few possessions other than the clothes on her back and the sword Yang had given her. Finally she had the freedom she had always longed for. True freedom, from her father, her city, her people.

And absolutely no idea what to do with it.

Sighing, she looked back up at Yang's sleeping face and frowned. That was the catch, wasn't it? She was free, and had no notion of what she wanted to do with that freedom.

It was something she had grown to realize the longer she stayed with Yang. That aside from conversation, there was little she could provide for her. Yang didn't need her protection, there was no household for her to run, no political games for her to handle. She didn't need advice on balancing the needs of farmers or merchants, or even the military knowledge Weiss had accumulated, listening at her father's side.

Weiss was useless here, other than as an extra pair of hands to move Yang's treasures down to the lower tunnels. But eventually Yang would have her hoard in order. Eventually, she would find a new home, a new lair. _And then what?_ Weiss asked herself. _Will you be some permanent household guest? Living off her treasure, in her home? _

That was what rankled Weiss the most. The imbalance of it all. Yang was a dragon, wealthy beyond the dreams of most mortal men, and Weiss had nothing to give in return. Yang rescued her, saved her, and all she could do was wipe away the blood.

She glanced back at Yang, and let her gaze wander, trailing down the side of her neck, to the muscles of her shoulders, the hard lines of her collarbone, to the soft, welcoming swell of her breasts. _As if the scales weren't already tipped to her side. She has to be taller and larger too._

Even last night, the dragon had made it all about Weiss. Her happiness. _Her _pleasure. Not even giving Weiss the chance to return the favor. _I'm taking advantage of her generosity. I can't even make love to her without feeling like a leech_. _I can't ..._

Now _that_ was an idea. Staring at Yang, Weiss waited, looking for any sign that she was about to wake. Convinced that the dragon was fast asleep, Weiss wriggled just a little lower inside the blankets. She needed to move as little as possible. The whole thing would be pointless of Yang woke up too early.

If Yang wanted to take the lead like last night, fine. But Weiss was _going_ to pay her back. _And I can definitely think of worse ways to wake up. _

Weiss took a breath, let it out, then lowered her mouth Yang's cheek. Soft kisses trailed their way down her jaw, until Weiss' mouth closed on Yang's.

A low moan broke the silence, Yang's mouth still slightly open, brow furrowing just a little as she slept. Smiling at the sound, wondering what the other woman was dreaming about, Weiss pressed closer, cuddling up against the dragon's side. She kissed her again, reaching back to sweep a strand of ivory hair back behind her ear.

Another moan split the air, and Yang's hips twitched up as the blonde arched her back, unconsciously pressing harder against Weiss' hand, looking for more sensation even in her dreams. Deciding it was time, Weiss kissed her one more time, before before biting gently down onto Yang's lip. It wasn't rough, or even that hard, but the pressure was just enough to make Yang's eyes move behind their lids, flutter, and then finally open.

"Morning." Weiss said, smiling to herself as Yang's breath caught.

"W-weiss?" The blonde said, half-out of breath. "Wha-what are you-"

Weiss kissed her on the mouth, silencing the question before Yang could finish. "I thought it was unfair for me to be on the receiving end all night."

She stood and made her way over to her clothes. Shaking them out, she dressed quickly, gathering her hair up in one long ponytail that trailed past her shoulders. Looking back, she found the dragon staring at her, breath still a little labored, completely and utterly speechless.

"Come on." Weiss said, turning to hide her smile. "Your hoard won't sort itself."

* * *

Yang could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she made her way down the tunnels. The last thing she expected when she fell asleep was to be woken up like ... well, like _that. _

None of it made any sense. One minute, Weiss wanted release, some kind of comfort after everything she'd experienced. She wanted something physical, a kind of intimacy she had only really shared with Yang, and Yang made good on that. She gave Weiss everything she could, until the petite princess fell asleep in her arms.

She was fine with that. For now, at least. It made sense that Weiss would feel alone after being betrayed by her family. The fact that she could trust Yang at all – trusted her to hold her, to please her – was a small miracle. Yang understood. She knew how hard it could be to trust someone, how much time you needed before you'd be willing to open up again. To risk yourself with someone else. And she was _fine _with that. She was, she _really_ was ... for now.

But waking up to find Weiss kissing her ...

_She's just trying to pay me back,_ Yang decided, shaking her head to clear it. _You know how much she hates feeling indebted to you. _

Right. That had to be it. The same reason Weiss was sticking around – her need to pay Yang back for the events that had left her home in shamble. As unnecessary and pointless as that need was, it did make some sort of sense. _A lot of sense, actually, _Yang grumbled to herself, _especially since she's so annoyingly stubborn about not being in 'debt'. _In that case ... well, she'd just have to make sure Weiss didn't feel 'left out'. Assuming they ever slept together again, of course. From what Weiss had said, it could have just been a one-time thing.

Yang blew out another long breath and turned the corner. She could hear Weiss further down, the muffled movement of stone as the princess started to clean the chamber. It was the last cavern they had to check, the last one stable enough to try and recover anything from. Another one Yang had been trying her best to avoid. This part of the caves had been hit hardest by the cave-in, whole rooms and tunnels collapsing, filled to the brim with rock and dirt.

She supposed she should consider herself lucky. This could have been one of the rooms buried completely, with no hope of recovery. Still, she didn't want to see what must have happened to ...

She came into the room to find Weiss carefully pulling a small wooden box out from inside a pile of stone.

"Don't touch that!" Yang shouted, eyes wide. Before Weiss had time to blink, Yang was beside her, taking the box from her hands and running her fingers over the lid.

It was impossible. She was so sure it was destroyed. Broken, buried beneath tons of rock and dirt. Never to be found amidst the wreckage. There was no way it could have survived the cave-in, weathered the mountain of stone that had fallen onto her collection. And yet, it had, almost completely intact apart from a crack that ran across the lid.

Yang's fingers shook as she drew them up the length of the crack. Maybe they hadn't been crushed. If the box had survived, maybe, just maybe ...

"What is _wrong_ with you?"

Yang jerked to a halt, suddenly aware of tears trying to well up behind her eyes. She blinked them clear and looked to her side, finding an irate Weiss staring at her in disbelief.

"Sorry." Yang looked back down at the box. She hadn't meant to react like that. She'd just seen Weiss with it, reacted before she knew what she was doing. "I was sure ... I was sure they'd be crushed."

"If the items in here are so important, you should have warned me first," the princess snapped, glaring at her as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

"Sorry," Yang said again, her fingers trembling over the latch. There was a chance, a _real_ chance that they'd survived. And now, with them right in front of her ...

"Well?" Weiss snapped, craning her neck to stare up into Yang's face. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Swallowing, Yang took the latch between her thumb and forefinger, and froze. She had to know. She needed to know, and she still couldn't bring herself to lift the lock.

A hand closed on hers. Yang glanced up, and found Weiss staring at her, anger fading into worry as the princess saw the expression on the dragon's face. Taking Yang's fingers, Weiss lifted, ignoring the way she tried to flinch away, tried to do anything other than look into the box.

The lid opened, and a cry of anguish and relief tore from Yang's throat.

Weiss' eyes narrowed as she stared into the bottom of the box. "Yang, are those ..."

Lying along the wooden base were a set of blood-red scales. They were small, far smaller than Yang's when she transformed, the largest of them only the size of her thumbnail. But apart from the color and size, they were a perfect match for hers. That same spade-like shape, narrowing to a tip at one end, gleaming with a luster that could only come from a creature of magic.

Yang breathed, pupils blown wide as she stared down at the small red scales. She was so sure they'd been destroyed. She had long given up hope of finding them like this, intact and unharmed.

"Yang." The dragon looked up at the sound of her name. Weiss was staring at her, her brow furrowed as she reached forward and ran her hand across Yang's cheek.

She was crying. Yang was crying, and she hadn't even realized it.

Pulling away, Yang wiped at her eyes, swallowing again and again as she tried to clear her throat.

"I ... I told you I came here to look for someone, right?"

Weiss nodded, looking thoughtful. The anger that had come from Yang yanking the box out of her hands seemed to have vanished, replaced with concern as she sat, listening to the dragon try and fail to speak. Yang opened her mouth, then closed it, unsure where to begin.

"Years ago, my sister was ... she was taken," Yang managed, despite the lump in her throat. Gods, she hadn't spoken about this in ... well, since her father left. Since she had made her home here, pointlessly hoping that eventually she might find some sign, some clue that would tell her where to go.

"These were hers." Weiss finished for her, hands coming up to brace the back of the box. "What's her name?"

Yang opened her mouth, about to answer, then stopped. Right. Weiss didn't speak draconic. She wouldn't understand, couldn't hear the cadences and the rise and fall of the notes as she sang her name. Switching to the common tongue, she said. "It'd be Ruby Rose, in Common." She swallowed and glanced back down into the box. "For her scales."

"I'm guessing you couldn't find her."

Yang shook her head. "Dad tried. For years. He and I tore across the countryside looking for her." She let out a long, shuddering sigh. "He was gone too long. The people he watches over – his city – they started to suffer. Floods, famines, raiders ... finally, he had no choice. He had to go back."

"But you stayed."

Yang looked into ice-blue pools, not bothering to try and hide the pain in her eyes. "I had to. She's my _sister_, Weiss. If I had any idea where she was, I'd be ... I'd ..."

Yang trailed off. What would she do? What _could_ she do? She had searched high and low for years, putting the fear of god into anyone, _anyone,_ who knew anything about the people who had kidnapped her.

"Well, it shouldn't be too hard." Weiss said, lowering the box to the ground. Yang resisted for a second, then let Weiss set it aside. Her hands were shaking, and she hadn't even realized. "There can't be that many things that could kidnap a dragon."

She shook her head. "Ruby's not ... our dad is a dragon, but her mom ... Summer was human."

"So your sister, what is she?"

Yang's eyes went red as her head came up, glaring furiously at the smaller princess. "She's not a _what_, Weiss. She's a little girl, who-"

"That is not what I meant." Unphased by her outburst, Weiss laid her hand on Yang's, squeezing slightly. "I can't help you look if I don't know what she looks like."

"I've looked for years, Weiss. She's gone. Just ... gone."

"Maybe," Weiss nodded, a sad little smile crossing her lips. "But for all those years, you didn't have _me_."

She didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything Weiss could do that Yang hadn't already done. No one she could find. Still ... at the very least, it couldn't hurt. No more than it already did.

"Is she human?" Weiss asked, her voice soft.

Yang nodded. "Mostly. Dark hair. Silver eyes, but she can't transform, so they always look like a dragon's." She smiled at the memory, of holding her baby sister, seeing those metallic eyes in that pudgy little face. "She had these little crimson scales. Only a few, places like her cheekbones, her jaw, elbows, knuckles. Wherever her bones were close to the skin."

"How old is she?"

"She was only twenty when she was taken, so she'd still look like a kid to you." Yang shrugged. "Maybe mid-teens by now."

"I'm sorry. Twenty?"

"It's the dragon blood. She ages slower." Yang gave her a sideways glance. "How old did you think I was?"

Weiss blinked in surprise, as if the thought had never occurred to her. "... mid-twenties?"

"More like five times that."

"You're a _hundred_ years old?" Weiss' mouth dropped open.

Yang smiled humorlessly. Any other time, she would have loved to see that shocked expression on Weiss' face. "And I'm young for a dragon."

That shut Weiss up. For a long moment, the princess just stared at her, as if Yang was some unfathomable puzzle she couldn't quite figure out. Yang would have laughed if she could – she didn't know why Weiss was so surprised. She was a dragon, after all. Long lives tended to come with being a magical creature.

"Where did you lose track of her?" Weiss said finally, shaking her head.

"Here. I told you, that's why I stayed. I was ... I dunno. Hoping, maybe, I could find their trail."

"Who would want a ..." Weiss paused, her brow furrowed. "Who would want a half-dragon child?"

"I don't know. Maybe some sort of sorcerer? Dragons have inherent magic, but her scales won't do much. She's too young. Any good caster would know that."

"But the people who took her might not."

Yang shrugged. That was something she hadn't considered. She had always assumed the people who took her knew what they wanted, that they had some purpose for stealing away a small child from her family. The idea that they might have just been opportunists, that they hadn't known what they were going to do with her ... it wasn't a good thought. The idea of Ruby trapped somewhere, her scales being taken off again and again to be sold ...

She didn't realize how tightly her hands were clenched, not until Weiss took her chin and forced her eyes back up to hers. Holding her gaze, Weiss waited until the white-knuckles fists began to relax, loosening slowly as Yang bled off the rage that was building in her.

"Yang. We _will_ find her." Yang opened her mouth, about to object, to say Weiss had no idea what she was talking about, then stopped. She had seen that look in Weiss' eyes. The one she'd had while hiking away from her city and shouting at a dragon to leave her alone. The look she'd had when she stood by Yang's side in the palace. When she said she was staying, at least until Yang found a new home.

There was no talking to her like this. She had found something to sink her teeth into and wasn't about to let Yang pry her loose. Even if it was hopeless. Even if Yang had no more clues, no more information she could give her.

"Okay," the dragon sighed. Nothing good would come of this. No leads, no trail, just more aggravation until Weiss finally gave up. But it meant Weiss would stay a little longer. And even knowing how it would end, knowing that she'd be right back where she was ... Yang wanted to hope. She wanted Weiss to be right, that having a new pair of eyes might tell her something she'd missed, something she couldn't find on her own.

"Where do we start?"

* * *

The young girl woke to the sounds of movement, hundreds of feet pounding the hard-packed dirt as people funneled into neighboring tent. It carried over the rest of the noise she'd grown accustomed to, the din of fire dancers and performers, of crowds watching the jugglers and the steady thunk of knives being thrown into wooden targets. Even over the growls of the animals nearby, she could hear the footsteps, knew what they meant as the audience funneled into the confines of the tent.

Sighing, she rolled onto her feet and pulled her legs up to her chest. It was almost time. She knew that from experience, even if she couldn't see into the larger tent. Not from here, not with the animals blocking her view, collared and caged to keep them still until the trainers came to get them. But she could always tell from the footsteps, from the smells of food and the loud jumble of voices from the other side of the flap. Her mouth watered at the scent of meat, her stomach growling as she imagined the taste – they always brought out the good game on their first night.

So she sat and waited, watching as the trainers came for one animal after another, leading them out for their performance before returning them to their tent.

"And now, for the creature we know you all came to see," a voice called out over the racket. "The mongrel result of congress between a woman and the great hydra itself. A freak of nature, misshaped and malformed beyond our understanding. The hideous, the amazing ... Lizard Girl!"

With a sigh, the red-scaled girl stood and walked towards the bars of her cage, as far as the heavy chain around her neck would let her. It clinked, and she stopped, not wanting to half-choke herself on the metal collar latched around her neck. Cracking her neck from side to side, she stretched her wings, barely able to extend halfway within the confines of the bars.

That was the one good part of a performance. They always let her fly, let her flap around the tent as the onlookers oohed and aahed.

_Plus, _she thought, her stomach growling. _It means I'll eat tonight__._

* * *

**Author's Note: If you can, PLEASE take the time to leave a review – it lets me know what the reader response is and whether or not I should do more stuff along the lines of whatever I've posted.**

**So, HERE is the beginning of the new arc. Hopefully it's okay, I went down to the wire a bit on this one. Might feel a bit rushed, and if it does, I'm sorry about that.  
**


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